


Apocalypse of the Dammed, Level 9: The Cafetorium

by ItsAReference_Dickhead



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Angst, Bisexual Jeremy Heere, F/F, Fluff, Gay Michael Mell, Gen, I like the word 'fuck' a lot, I went there kids, I've shoehorned a lot of my headcanons in here I'm so sorry, Idk really how to tag, Imma fuckin' die writing this, Lots of Angst, M/M, Song fic, Unrequited Love, Violence, also, at first anyway, but not really, lots a violence, obligatory Zombie Apocalypse au, really - Freeform, that's unrelated but eh, there's not much to say, what did i get myself into, yup
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-02-22 11:52:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 27,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13166367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsAReference_Dickhead/pseuds/ItsAReference_Dickhead
Summary: She-, no. IT moved towards him, slowly advancing. Not limping, but, not walking on two feet like somebody would naturally. Of course, that was only if they were fully human. Her eyes, once green and vivid with color, where devoid and lifeless. Her ivory skin, shone like the white of a ghost. Hair, bright as a sunset painted with colors of autumn, fell in a tangled, matted mess. A voice, soft as summer rain, creaked out a small word, with the scrape of a knife on a car, "S.Q.U.I.P.?"Jeremy had just enough time to tilt his head and raise his eyebrow in confusion before Jolene screeched and lunged at him. Jeremy screamed, hitting the ground, his attacker clawing at him mercilessly. He kicked and scratched and fought back, but multiple punches to the face and/or stomach did nothing to deteriorate it's motivation, whatever it may be. 'Oh God,' he thought, as it reached to bite his neck, 'I'm going to die, right here, in this shitty cafeteria.'





	1. We Didn't Start the Fire

**Author's Note:**

> sorry for the shitty summary and tags. Also, Classic Rock is my jam. So yes, the rest of the chapters will be lyrics from different classic rock/80's pop songs. Fuck you, that's why. (I'm being so rude, scaring off readers.)

Jeremy Heere sighed. He was in a bit of a dilemma. The clock read “4:37 a.m.”, two hours prior to when he was SUPPOSED to wake up for the hell that is High-School. That wasn’t the problem. No, that itself wasn’t. The problem was that Jeremy couldn’t go back to sleep. He didn’t feel like watching porn and jacking off, he didn’t feel like reading, and he DEFINITELY didn’t feel like pulling up a game on his phone. He could always talk to somebody, but anybody who was up at this time was probably doing something illegal. He sighed again, letting his air out slower this time. Well, there was one person who might be up.

Jeremy mindlessly reached for his phone, and punched in his contact.

 

To: Player 1

-hey man you up

From: Player 1

-Jeremy wtf why’d you wake me up i was getting my beauty sleep in

To: Player 1

-what beauty

From: Player 1

-rude

-i came out here to have a good time and honestly i’m feeling so attacked right now

-friendship status: over

-jk yeah i’m up wassup

To: Player 1

-idk i’m bored. Entertain me peasant

From: Player 1

-what do you mean youre bored its like 445

-go beat your meat to some dolphins fuckin you furry

To: Player 1

-i’m honored that you think so highly of me

-idk i’m just bored

-can’t sleep

-can’t do other shit

-and i knew you’d be the only one of my friends to be up

From: Player 1

-why would you think that

To: Player 1

-that last week three days of school before junior year ring a bell

From: Player 1

-...

-touche

To: Player 1

-so wyd

From: Player 1

-nothing really tbh

-just watching that meerkat documentary again

-if you didnt already have a dolphin fursona a meerkat would suit you pretty well

To: Player 1

-are you sure im the furry here

From: Player 1

-yeah im pretty certain you are the furry heere

-get it its your name

-hahaha im so funny

To: Player 1

-those jokes werent funny 13 years ago

-why would they be funny now

-please go shove a ball of barbed wire up your ass

-maybe you can find some pretty decent jokes

From: Player 1

-pft what you talkin bout im a joke of course im funny

To: Player 1

-i said decent

From: Player 1

-rude

 

Jeremy yawned, stretching and glancing at his clock once more. An hour and half had passed, of him and Michael simply dicking around (not in the sexy way). In about thirty minutes he was going to have to start getting ready. Jeremy ran his fingers through his hair, before dragging them down his face. Oh, so NOW he was drowsy. Where the fuck was this feeling two hours ago?

 

He all but gracefully rolled out of his bed, and landed on the floor with a *thud*. He then groaned into the carpet for a solid minute.

 

“Jeremy?” His father called, “Jeremy, is that you?”

 

“No dad, it’s the monster under my bed.”

 

“Well, no need to be rude about it. Are you okay?”

 

Jeremy brought his head off the floor to say, “Yeah, I’m fine.” A few seconds passed before Jeremy narrowed his eyes. “Wait,” he stood up, “Dad? What are you doing up this early?” His dad poked his head in the door, a hand covering his eyes. Jeremy rolled his own before saying, “you can look.” Mr. Heere removed his hand.

 

“They need me in the office today a little early. There’s a client that’s been promising ‘something special’, and today he finally was allowed to demonstrate it. The demonstration is a little early, though.”

 

“Oh.”

 

Mr. Heere checked the watch on his wrist, before leaving Jeremy’s doorway. “Gotta get going! Have a good day at school, son.”

 

“Yeah, you too dad.”

 

Since Jeremy was already up, it seemed logical to get ready anyway. He shrugged off his boxers, shirt, and socks, before replacing them with a clean pair. Jeremy then arched his back, stretching once more. He then yawned, and grabbed a pair of jeans. Only clean pair left. Jeremy’s shoulders sagged as he realized that meant he had to landry when he came home. Yay. Well, since he was ahead, there was enough time to walk to school without having to rush. That meant at least no sweaty pits. Jeremy grabbed his backpack, the stupid “Boyf” still written on it, and walked out the door.

 

That school day was nothing special. Same old, same old. The after school play practice had ended, as the play had been put on less than a week ago. Jeremy didn’t get as close to Christine as he wanted, but he did get her number out of it. Progress.

 

Jeremy was in the cafeteria, waiting for Michael to finish whatever he had to do in Mr. Morrison’s classroom. He heard the doors open, and glanced up from his phone to see who it was. Not Michael. Rather, a beautiful girl named Jolene. Jeremy flushed red, and snapped his head back to his phone, but kept stealing glances at her. She looked confused about something, head tilted, eyes wide, and mouth slightly open. Jeremy narrowed his eyes.

 

“Hey, are you okay? Do you need something?”

 

Her head snapped towards Jeremy, and he could hear her neck popping. She had inched closer, and Jeremy knew there was something off about her. She-, no, IT moved towards him, slowly advancing. Not limping, but, not walking on two feet like somebody would naturally. Of course, that was only if they were fully human. Her eyes, once green and vivid with color, where devoid and lifeless. Her ivory skin, shone with the white of a ghost. Hair, bright as a sunset painted with colors of autumn, fell in a tangled, matted mess. A voice, soft as summer rain, creaked out a small word, like the scrape of a knife on a car, "S.Q.U.I.P.?"

 

Jeremy had just enough time to tilt his head and raise his eyebrow in confusion before Jolene screeched and lunged at him. Jeremy screamed, hitting the ground, his attacker clawing at him mercilessly. He kicked and scratched and fought back, but multiple punches to the face and/or stomach did nothing to deteriorate it's motivation, whatever it may be. 'Oh God,' he thought, as it reached to bite his neck, 'I'm going to die, right here, in this shitty cafeteria.'

 

Life had other plans, it seemed.

Out of seemingly nowhere, a war cry was heard, and a baseball bat made a connection with its head. It's grip on Jeremy loosened, and in his shock, his heightened senses said 'hey, GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM WHATEVER THE HELL THAT IS.' Jeremy decided that it would be best to listen to those voices, and scrambled back from it. Michael Mell, in all his red-hoodie glory, was beating the SHIT out of whatever Jolene had become. Suddenly, it stopped moving, and Michael slowed his bat-swinging to a halt.

 

Panting, he mumbled, “ _Manatili patay, bulok bitch ka._ ” Michael made eye-contact with Jeremy, and his mouth formed a lopsided grin. “Hey, buddy. How’s it hangin’?”

 

Jeremy blinked for a few minutes, before saying, “Did… did you just kill Jolene?”

 

Michael panted, and looked back at the body, back at Jeremy, back at the body, back at Jeremy, body, Jeremy, body, Jeremy, body, bat, and said, “yeah, I think I did.” Michael’s eyes then widened, and he dropped the bat, and with his hands over his mouth in shock, backed up. “Shit, I killed somebody. Shit. Shitshitshitshitshitsh _akebakebak_ s _bak_ Ikil _inhakaniyangpinataykoakoaposysasabihinsakarsel_ GodImsoscrewedbut _akoayhuwagmosiyang_ you,” He eventually devolved into a stuttering mess, thoughts unraveling to the point of being not understood in either Tagalog or English. Jeremy placed his hands firmly on Michael’s shoulders, grounding him.

 

“Michael. Hey, Michael.” Michael made eye-contact with Jeremy, looking almost like a deer in headlights. Jeremy brought his hand up in front of his own chest, and took a breath in. Michael did the same. Jeremy exhaled, bringing his hand down. Michael did the same. They repeated the motions about three more times before Michael was back to breathing normally again. Jeremy smiled. “You good?”

 

“Hmm? Oh, yeah. I’m fine. Are you okay?”

 

“Thanks to you, yeah.” Both boys fell silent as they glanced at the body again.

 

“What was wrong with her?” Michael asked, going over to pick up the bloody bat.

 

“To be honest, I have no idea. She just walked in here, and said something like… ‘quick? Squid?’ I don’t know, something weird. Then she just attacked me.”

 

Michael gave an experimental poke with the bat at it. The dead body remained lifeless. He gave another. Still dead. Michael then flipped the body over onto its back, still using the bat. Jeremy inched closer. It was oozing a mix of vomit and blood from the mouth, and pus and some kind of liquid had started seeping from its eyes and nose. Both Jeremy and Michael curled their lips in disgust. Jeremy then narrowed his eyes, and squatted down for a better look. It had electrocution marks on its wrists, and neck, reaching up into its face.

 

“What the hell?” Jeremy muttered.


	2. It was always burning, since the world's been turning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because everybody else says it, why shouldn't I? *clears throat* Rich makes an Entrance!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're really pushing the plot along at a weird pace? Sorry for that, ha ha. But, since I got more than, like, 11 people reading this, I'm going to have updates every other Saturday! Starting today, obviously. Once again, un-beta-ed? I also wrote this at unholy hours of many different mornings, so. Yip-fuckin'-pe. Oh, also, if you catch any references to "other media" *wink wink, nudge nudge* please keep in mind I'm not making this a crossover, those are just cool allusions that I thought I'd add. Oh, also, to clear up some confusion in case you may have any, this takes place Senior Year. See you at the end! *dabs off cliff* 
> 
> 01/13/18 Edit: FUCK HOLY SHIT I FORGOT THIS CHAPTER HAS IMPLICATIONS OF ABUSE SO TW IF THAT BOTHERS YOU FFUUUUUCK ME GENTLY WITH A CHAINSAW
> 
> 01/16/18 Edit: So, the Lovely "TheOneFromTheForest" has done the gracious act of reminding my dumb ass that not everybody speaks/understands Tagalog! Hell, I'm putting it through a translator anyway. So, in the first chapter, this is what was said (Not direct translation!): 
> 
> Manatili patay, bulok bitch ka- Stay dead, you rotten bitch. 
> 
> Kani yang pinatay ko- I killed her.
> 
> Ako ay pumunta sa kulungan sasabihin- I'm gonna go to jail. (Not all of this was in there, that was on purpose) 
> 
> Ako ay huwag mo siyang- The actual translation for this is something along the lines of "I am not he" but what I was going for is "I couldn't let her hurt you" with the "you" being in English.

 

Michael swallowed, watching Jeremy, still processing what happened. “‘What the hell?’ is right, my dude. You’re saying she just attacked you? Outta nowhere? While asking about a squid?” Jeremy shrugged in response.

 

“Pretty much, yeah.”

 

“ _Ano ang tunay na kumantot_. What the shit nuggets. What the fucking horses with asshat crocodiles.”

 

Jeremy looked a little startled from his spot next to the body. “I don’t know what the first part was, but the rest of those were definitely eloquent.”

 

Michael sneered mockingly. Then he adopted a devilish grin. “She probably knew you were a-”

 

“Shut it.”

 

Michael snickered. He then took a deep breath. “You’re being awfully calm considering the fact that I just killed somebody in front of you.” There it was again. That terrifying, constricting feeling in his chest. Shit, he couldn’t breathe. That made him feel sick. Yup, that wasn’t going away anytime soon. Jeremy’s face darkened. Oh, good going Michael. Ruining the mood. They were quiet for all of thirty seconds before screaming came from the hall. Jeremy furrowed his brow.

 

“Is… is that Rich?” Another scream, more like a yell this time.

 

“Yeah, that’s definitely Rich. I’d recognize those screams anywhere.” It took Michael all of thirty seconds to realize the implications that statement had. He took a couple steps backwards, stumbling, as Jeremy looked at him, eyebrow raised. “I-I didn’t mean it like that!” Jeremy nodded, lips pursed, as Michael picked at his sleeves. They both then startled. “Shit! Somebody’s out there!” Both Jeremy and Michael rushed towards the doors.

 

“Are there more of them?”

 

Michael tilted his head in with a questioning look on his face. “I mean, there were other people out there. But they were just wandering around, not doing much. I kinda just assumed they were high or some shit.” The last part of the sentence remained in Michael’s head, ‘I was gonna ask if I could have a hit, but I heard you scream and ran as fast as I could.’

 

“Wait, you mean they weren’t attacking you? It was just Jolene doing that?”  Jeremy started down the hallway, following the screams.

 

“Yeah, no. They were just around. None of them were asking about squids or whatever either.” Jesus, Michael was out of shape. The bat seemed to be getting heavier and heavier in his hands, and he was wheezing already. Jeremy wasn’t in much better condition, but Jeremy also wasn’t over 140 lbs. They slid around a corner, Jeremy hitting the lockers and Michael hitting Jeremy. Michael didn’t have a chance to apologize, as Rich Gorganski was sprinting down the hall towards them. In pursuit were three of the most athletic kids in the school.

 

“Rich!” Jeremy called. Rich slowed down enough to answer.

 

“What, tall-ass? I dunno if you’ve noticed, but I’m kinda busy right now!”

 

“What’s goin-” Michael was cut off when Rich seemed to notice the bat in his hands, and yanked it from him. Rich then turned around and hit the center football player, Kurt Kelley, square in the jaw. That spent it spinning, knocking over Ram Sweeney, like bowling pins. Rich then spun in a perfect 180, and hit the last athlete, in the stomach, and when it bent down in reaction, Rich brought the bat down on its head, smashing the skull in. Rich let out a loud yell, and went after the other two, bludging Kurt in the throat until Rich stuck his foot completely through it, decapitating it. The last one, Ram, Rich simply shoved the bat through, leaving both Michael and Jeremy surprised. Rich may have been short, but they hadn’t realized that he was essentially a ball of muscle. Rich faced the two panting, then glanced at the bat in his hands.

 

“I like this thing. I’m keeping it.” He then pointed it at Michael. “Unless you have any objections?”

 

Michael put his hands up. “Nope, none. What I’m more concerned about is that you just committed casual… murder.” ‘Fuck you, conscience. Now’s not the time to get all high and mighty, or remind me that I did the same.’

 

Rich shrugged. “They were chasing me. I know how to take care of myself.”

 

“That’s not what the screams said.”

 

“Shut it, tall-ass. You’d be pretty fuckin’ terrified too if you were being tailed by three giant ass football players. I just needed something.” Rich said, but there was a light note to his voice. He then lifted the bat. “This is ‘something’. Now, I wanna know…” He pointed it at them again, as if threatening them, “what the fuck is going on here?”

 

Jeremy rolled his eyes, and pushed the bat down. “Point that somewhere else. We were actually about to ask you the same question.”

 

Rich shrugged again, lifting the bat behind his shoulders in one swift motion. “Well, seems we got ourselves a situ-...” Rich started, impersonating a terrible country accent, but then his voice faded, and he paled looking behind Michael and Jeremy. They both turned. Behind them, was a boy about their height. He had green hair, and wore a black hoodie-cloak thing. Michael was pretty certain he hadn’t seen the person before, but he was also pretty certain that the person looked familiar. Rich began to back up, shaking.

 

“Y-y-you’re supposed to be dead.” Rich’s lisp made a more prominent appearance, as well as a random stutter. Michael had no idea who this new person was, but Rich was fucking terrified of him.

 

The stranger walked onward. “S-stay back!! I’m warning you!!” Rich all but cried, and Michael could see Rich’s knuckles were white from clenching the bat so hard. The stranger ignored Rich’s warning, only walking faster. As he passed Michael and Jeremy, Michael saw the electrocution marks that matched the others.

 

Jeremy grabbed it's arm, and started to say, "What do you think you'r-" He never finished, as when it faced Jeremy, Michael saw that it's eyes were a solid green. No whites no pupils, nothing. Just glowing green of sickness. Jeremy froze, and it tore it's hand away, resuming it's course towards Rich.

 

Rich eventually backed up against the lockers, the bat having long since been dropped, and he had tears streaming freely down his face.

 

“Y-you should h-ha-ve d-drowned.” His voice was barely above a whisper.

 

“S.Q.U.I.P.” It said, as if in answer, before reaching towards Rich’s face.

 

“NO!!!” Rich squared the thing in the nose, before kicking it in the stomach. “You don’t get a hold on me ever again!!” Rich scrambled for the bat, and whatever it was lunged at him.

 

As Rich and the monster struggled, Michael saw Jeremy unfreeze, grab a hockey stick from the nearby closet, and hit it with what Michael assumed was all his might, against the lockers, breaking it in half and leaving one end with a point.

 

“Rich!” He called, and tossed the pointy end to him. Rich caught it, and stabbed the thing.

 

“You don’t ever get to touch me again.” He growled. It gave no response, and Rich took the hockey stick out of the now dead body and let it crash to the floor. Blood dripped from the hole in its chest, and the same gross liquids erupted from it that had come Jolene. Rich slumped to the floor, overwhelmed. Michael and Jeremy were silent for a moment, before Rich seemed to remember they were there. He wiped at his face violently. “What are you looking at?”

 

“Are…” Jeremy started, clearly uncomfortable, “are you okay?”

 

“Do I look okay, dumbass?” Rich snapped. He placed his hand on his forehead. “‘Cause I sure as hell don’t feel like it.” He said, voice softer.

 

“Do, uh, do you wanna talk about it?”

 

Rich closed his eyes, and shook his head, smiling in a broken manner. “I think I need to, but I’m not going to. At least, I’m going to try not to.” But he gestured towards the body. “He’s supposed to be dead though. God, that was horrifying.”

 

Jeremy apparently found a realization within that statement. “Holy shit, was that Victor?”

 

Michael blinked, feeling useless. “Was that who now?”

 

Rich pointed to Jeremy, still smiling, still crying. “Bingo. Victor Yerrid.”

 

A light bulb may as well have gone off over Michael’s head. God, he felt stupid. “OH!!! Wasn’t he that kid who committed suicide or something like that? Drowned, right?” Rich nodded. Michael swallowed. “So… what you’re saying is that Victor Yerrid, who drowned in a pool in our Junior Year… that was him?”

 

“Somebody give this kid a trophy, ‘cause he fucking earned it.” Rich muttered.

 

“You realize how ridiculous this sounds though, right?”

 

“Yes, Mell, of course I realize how stupid this situation is. Look at him though! I know very well that’s his face. If you check, there are scars running down his shoulders from the time he got into a car accident. His nose is slightly crooked from when he broke that, too.” Rich sniffed. “Tall-ass knows most of the story. You don’t. Not the time, not the place. I’ll tell you later.” Rich inhaled, then exhaled, calming himself. “What I wanna find out is how the hell is he alive.”

 

“He had the same markings as everyone else who attacked us did.” Jeremy noted, tapping a finger against his lips.

 

Michael’s breath hitched. ‘Not now, gay thoughts.’ “Yeah, you’re right. Didn’t he also say something about a squid or quick or whatever, like you said Jolene did?”

 

Jeremy pointed at Michael. “You’re right! He did! Both of them did.”

 

“Well, I dunno anything about Jolene, but I wanna get out of this dump. Run away to Germany, start a family, forget this ever happened, all that.” Rich stood up, wiping his face. He grabbed the bat. “Still keeping this, though.” He started to walk away.

 

“Shouldn’t… shouldn’t we hide the bodies or something?” Jeremy asked. Michael shrugged.

 

“I’m definitely not touching them. You see what was coming out of their mouths and crap? That’s nasty.”

 

“Oh, so we’re just gonna leave the five dead bodies of people we just killed lying around the school for whoever to find tomorrow?”

 

Gut wrench. Michael smiled painfully anyway. “Seems like it. They’ll never know we did it.”

 

Jeremy gave Michael a disbelieving look. “Dude, there are security cameras.”

 

Shit, now he really was going to jail. Granted, so were Rich and Jeremy, but still. “Oh… right.” Michael then frowned. “Wait, there are security cameras. Which means there should be a security guard.”

 

Jeremy gestured with his hands in confusion. “Riiigghhttt…? What’s your point?”

 

“My point is that, if there’s a guard, who’s watching the cameras at all times, why didn’t he stop us? We just got into a fight and killed five people.”

 

Rich froze from where he was. He then turned back around, wide eyed. “We need to get out of here, right now.”

 

Michael and Jeremy nodded in agreement. “My Cruiser’s still parked out in the lot. C’mon!”

 

The three raced down the hallway to the doors when Jeremy suddenly stopped.

 

“Wait!”

 

Michael turned around. “What is it?”

 

“I need to get my homework. It’s in the cafeteria.”

 

Both Michael and Rich pulled a face, Michael of disbelief, and Rich of disgust. Jeremy flushed red.

 

“Hey, I’m not doing so hot in History right now!”

 

Rich sighed. “We’re gonna be history if we don’t GO!!” He screamed the last part, pointing behind Jeremy. Sure enough, a large army of zombie students was making their way towards the three.

 

Michael’s shoulders sagged. “ _Ikaw ay bumangon upang huwag akong shitting_.”

 

Jeremy rushed forward, grabbed Michael’s hand, and said, “You’re right! Fuck History! Let’s go!” He then started to follow Rich, Michael in tow.

 

Michael tore his hand away from Jeremy, burning from the touch. ‘Goddamnit, man. Warn me before you do that.’ “That one!” Michael yelled, pointing to the purple PT Cruiser once they were in the parking lot.

 

“Seriously? Purple?” Rich said.

 

“Are you really judging my color choice of car; right now?”

 

“No?... Possibly…? Okay, yes, I totally am. Not that purple’s ugly, just I see so many of these.”

 

“Just for that, you’re sitting in the back.”

 

Rich scoffed, looking mock offended. “How dare you! C’mon Micycle, the Richster deserves to be in the front!”

 

“With that nickname, you are totally sitting in the back.”

 

“My nickname? Or yours?”

 

“Both.” Michael started the car, and once the other two were in with the doors closed, he drove off as fast as he could without getting in a wreck. “Where to?”

 

Rich and Jeremy spoke at the same time.

 

“Jake’s house.”

 

“My place.”

 

“Jeremy’s place is closer. We’ll go to his, then mine, then Jake’s. Sound good?”

 

Rich leaned forward, anticipation in his eyes. “But we gotta warn him. They don’t know that the fucking zombie apocalypse has started.”

 

Jeremy sat up like a bullet. “I have to warn Christine!” He pulled out his phone and started furiously typing.

 

“Tell everybody, man! People gotta know!” Rich all but shouted. Michael winced.

 

“Lean back when you do that. Sensitive ears?”

“Sure, sorry.”

 

It was silent for a while, when Jeremy whispered, staring out the front with empty eyes, “Is this real? Is it actually happening? Are we…”

 

“Are we what?”

 

Jeremy faced Michael, pale faced, wide-eyed, but mostly, disbelieving. “Are we in the middle of a fucking Zombie Apocalypse?”

 

Michael gripped the steering wheel, chewing his lip. “I’m gonna be honest… I don’t know. And I’m kinda scared.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, Rich doesn't have a S.Q.U.I.P. in this. I have a whole idea planned out for why. Yes, his lisp is still there, I'm just not writing it into his dialogue because? Why would?? I do that??? Like honey???? You got an accent????? I'm not writing that shit into your dialogue?????? So why would I??????? Write???????? A lisp????????? Anyway. You catch the significance behind the whole "Victor Yerrid" name thing? I didn't mean to give this much development to Rich this early, honestly. It just happened. I Love Rich, okay? I really do. Also, pining Michael, anybody? Don't worry, we'll get to your Boyfs soon enough. It'll be a while, but it'll happen. Don't trust me though, because last time somebody did that, I set cereal on fire. (Long story)
> 
> 01/16/18 Edit: Tagalog Translation (I don't know actual slang/swears besides "Tangina", so I improvised and used our English ones): 
> 
> Ano ang tunay na kumantot- What the actual fuck.
> 
> Ikaw ay bumangon upang huwag akong shitting- You've gotta be shitting me.


	3. We Didn't Start the Fire

Normal? Pft, what is normal? Rich certainly didn’t fucking know. I mean, you wouldn’t be normal either if you were a 5’2” 17 year-old Senior with a lisp, and were flamingly and openly bisexual. But Rich was pretty certain that getting into a fight and killing four people, one of which being an un-dead, shitty excuse for a person, and the sheer fact that he was quite possibly running away from LITERAL ZOMBIES, wasn’t "normal" in any sense of the word. Least he didn’t have to go home. That would be fantastic explaining those bruises to his father. Not that he would care. Rich sniffed. Now was not the time to get all sad ‘n gross. Zombies first. Speaking of, “what the fuck?”

Jeremy turned around from his seat in the front. “What?”

Rich looked at him in disbelief. “What do you mean, ‘what’? I mean, ‘what the fuck?’ As in, ‘what the fuck is going on?’ As in, ‘WHY THE FUCK ARE THERE PEOPLE TRYING TO KILL US?!’”

“Rich, what did I just say?”

Rich ignored Michael’s quip. “Listen, I dunno what the fuck is going on, you don’t know what the fuck is going on, AND IT’S BOTHERING ME!!”

“Rich, I swear to God, I will throw you out of my car.”

“That would be pretty useless, as we’re here.”

“I wasn’t gonna tell him that!”

“I know what his house looks like.”

The three got out of the car. Rich apparently slammed the door too hard for Michael’s liking, as he started yelling at Rich.

“Dude, do you have any respect for anybody’s shit? Be nice to my car, man. She’s my pride and joy.”

Rich furrowed his brow, and spread his hands in an attempt to apologize. “Uh, sorry?”

“We don’t have time for this.” Jeremy cut the two off, opening his front door. “Dad? Dad I’m home, and I, uh, brought Michael and Rich with me.”

Michael cocked his head. “Your dad knows who Rich is?”

Jeremy avoided eye contact with Michael for a short while. “He’s not that bad at COD. And, uh, it’s really not that often. Just when you’re busy. Only-! Only COD though! Occasionally Halo...”

Rich smirked, and went over to rest his arms on Michael’s shoulders. “Aww, you jealous? Worried I’m gonna steal your boyfriend away?”

Michael sneered, and pushed Rich off. “Shut up.”

“Why?”

Jeremy pressed his fingers to his temple. “Be quiet, both of you. I can’t hear myself think. Dad?” No reply. “He should be home by now.” A loud thud from upstairs made all three boys jump.

  
“Should I be scared?” Rich asked, crossing his arms so nobody could see he was shaking oh-so-slightly.

  
Michael had thrown his hood up, probably on instinct, and was not-so-subtly shaking.

  
It was silent for a solid moment, before Jeremy called out, more cautiously this time, “Dad?” His face had become all blotchy and red, his acne blending into his skin. He swallowed, before starting to inch closer to the staircase.

  
Michael grabbed Jeremy’s wrist, shaking his head. He didn’t say anything, but the message was clear. ‘Bad idea.’

  
Rich’s fingers twitched, and he regretted leaving the bloody-bat in the car. He wasn’t stupid; he’d seen horror movies. Rich knew how this ended.

  
Jeremy looked at Michael with wide eyes and pursed lips, before he tore his hand away and peered around the staircase, voice cracking as he whispered, “Dad?” He then froze, mouth agape. A soft gasp flew past his lips, escaping into the air.

  
Behind Jeremy, Michael put his hands to his mouth, wide eyed and pale. He started to back away, shaking his head.

  
Seeing this, Rich was a little scared to see what they were. And he was perfectly reasonable in being so.

  
At the top of the staircase, two figures were hunched over a body. Didn’t take a genius to figure out who the body was. The figures were completely tearing it apart, both devouring it, and, though mouths were full of blood, speaking. “Not enough,” one said, biting into the arm. “Error,” the other replied, matted hair hanging out of its hands.

  
‘I’m gonna be sick.’ Rich thought. And by the looks of it, so was Michael. Jeremy hadn’t said anything, only stood frozen in shock and horror. Probably some sadness.

  
Then Jeremy had to open his mouth, one last time. “NO!!” The figures froze, human parts hanging out of their mouth.

  
One screamed, and started down the stairs in a twisted, backwards crab-walk. The other, simply sneered, and stood up. It appeared that one must not have been as dumb.

  
Rich didn’t wait around to see what would happen. He simply turned and bolted out the way he came. Maybe screaming, maybe not. He wasn’t about to admit he had tiny balls when it came to shit straight out of a horror movie.

  
“GO!!” Michael screamed, presumably at Jeremy. The crab-walking one had reached the bottom, and was now violently screeching at them. It almost sounded like it was saying something. Little hard to tell though, with the banshee yelling.

  
Rich nearly dove into the Cruiser’s backseat, almost ripping the door off. Michael was pulling a shell-shocked Jeremy along, terrifying monster still creeping after them. Rich bit his lip, conscience getting the better of him, and grabbed the bat again. He needed to name this thing.

  
Rich slid out of the car as Michael struggled to force Jeremy into the vehicle, and bashed the thing’s head. It went down, then brought it straight back up. Oh, great. Now it was just mad.

  
Contrary to popular belief, fighting something below your kneecap was the hardest fucking thing in the world. Every kick Rich sent to it was snapped at. Every swing was dodged. Jesus, it could move. Especially since it was crab-walking.

  
“Got him!” Michael shouted at last, slamming the door. Rich turned to a second at his voice, giving the zombie thing an opportunity to grab his ankle. Rich fell, screaming. It clawed at him, snapping its teeth whenever flesh was exposed.

  
Suddenly it froze, and snapped off of him. Rich threw himself in the car, checking for bites and panting. It stood outside the car, shaking and twitching, as if being electrocuted. Then it’s friend walked out of the house, covered in blood.

  
In perfect, clear English, the new one said, “Upgrade unsuccessful.” Then it lunged at its friend, ripping into it. Rich and Michael watched in horror, while Jeremy starred emptily ahead.

  
Rich then jolted, realizing, “it’s distracted! Drive, Mell!”

  
He didn’t need to be told twice, as the gas pedal hit the floor and the Cruiser shot in reverse. Rich, being the idiot he was, was flung forward due to the lack of seatbelt. Jeremy, while also not wearing one, sat stiff as a board; unaffected. Ah, trauma. What wonderful things it does to people.

  
Suddenly, Michael slammed on the brakes. “Vicky, Miley, Jacob…” He murmured, eyes wide.

  
“What?” Rich had time to say, before Michael set his jaw and pressed hard on the gas as he made a U-turn, nearly flipping the car over. “ARE YOU FUCKING INSANE?!?!?”

  
Michael didn’t reply, only pressed harder. They rounded a corner and nearly rammed a motorcycle head-on.

  
Rich sighed in relief, not realizing the anticipation he had been holding for his older brother. “Spencer!”

  
Spencer flicked his helmet lens up, seeing Rich. He then made a turning around motion frantically, as if saying ‘get out of here!’

  
Rich rolled down his window, and Michael gritted his teeth rather loudly. “What?”

  
Spencer took off his helmet, revealing dark brown locks and piercing sky-blue eyes. “This whole area has been overrun. It won’t be long before the whole city. If I had to pinpoint, I’d say it started here.”

  
“Do you know if anybody made it out?” Michael asked, making sharp eye-contact.

  
Spencer’s eyes softened. “From what I could see, no.” He then nervously glanced back. “And I don’t think we will either if we stay here.”

  
Rich wasn’t the most observant person in the world. Sure, he wasn’t super dense, he just didn’t quite notice the details. However, Rich did notice Spencer’s tear tracks. The subtle shifting in the jacket his girlfriend got him. The fresh red taint the purple Harvey now had. Rich did notice how Michael’s knuckles suddenly went white on the steering wheel. How he had bit down on his lip and looked out the window, probably fighting tears. Rich did notice how Jeremy, still in a hazey shock, reached over for Michael’s shoulder. How his hand was trembling but still steady on its course.

  
Less subtly, Rich noticed how the street lights, though off, had started exploding. How entire houses and building’s lights started flickering. How the buzz of fried wires began to seep into the air. And how the shadows at the edge of the street finally had figures to cast them.

  
“Fuck.”

  
That startled everybody out of their haze. Jeremy whipped his head to the right, seeing what Rich saw, and echoed, “fuck.” His hand flew from Michael’s shoulder as he yelled, “Michael go!”

  
Spencer shoved his helmet on after saying, “I’m following you.” He then revved the engine, and sped off behind the cruiser.

  
Michael took a deep breath as the buildings blurred, and asked, “Where too?”

  
“Jake’s. I know you don’t like him that much, but he’s my buddy. You get it right?”

  
Michael didn’t respond, but Rich figured he had nodded. Rich leaned forward as to see the two front seaters better.

  
“You’re gonna wanna get on Buckwood, then take-”

  
“The third left.” Jeremy and Michael recited with Rich.

  
“I know. I was at his party last year, remember?” Michael then mumbled something Rich couldn’t hear, but apparently Jeremy could, as the latter suddenly flinched and looked away.

  
Rich checked behind to make sure the motorcycle was still following them. He gave Spencer a thumbs up, before pulling out his phone.

  
To: Sunny D

  
-jake u dipshit anser me

  
From: Sunny D

  
-Rich! Holy shit you’re okay.

  
To: Sunny D

  
-yea im fine listen were coming 2 ur house are u alone

  
From: Sunny D

  
-No. I have Christine and Jenna here. We were marathoning Disney when the shit popped up on the news. I heard reached the school oh my God I was so worried.

  
-We?

  
To: Sunny D

  
-yea mike and jere are w/ me

  
-technicaly im w/ them but still

  
-were in a crusiser

  
-spencers alright to

  
Another notification appeared on Rich’s screen, this time from a different person.

  
From: Bitch Lost

  
-help we’re at pinkberry my battery’s dying

 

-what's going on

  
-rich please we’re really scared

  
-chlo’s crying

  
-her’s is dying too she’s calling jake

  
To: Bitch Lost

  
-hey calm down

  
-do u have a car

  
From: Bitch Lost

  
-no we walked

  
-oh my god rich chloe’s just died

  
To: Bitch Lost

  
-fuck

  
-okay uh

  
-just hold on

  
From: Sunny D

  
-Yo Chlo just called.

  
-She and Brooke are stuck at Pinkberry.

  
-Her battery died.

  
-I told her to hang on we’ll go get her.

  
To: Sunny D

  
-NO

  
-YOU JENNA AND CHRISTINE STAY RIGHT WEHER U FUCKING ARE

  
-WERE COMING TO GET YOU

  
-WELL GET BROOK AND CHLOE LTAER

  
From: Sunny D

  
-Rich I don’t think we can wait that long.

  
-I don’t even know what’s going on but this is fucking crazy.

  
-Are they actually eating people?

  
To: Sunny D

  
-wait til i get there i have some other stuff to tell u

  
From: Sunny D

  
-When do you think you’ll get here?

  
Rich looked up from his phone to ask, “how long unti-”

  
“Five minutes, max.” Michael said, eyes glued to the road in front of him. Jeremy nodded, as if to confirm this.

  
To: Sunny D

  
-5 mins max

  
-get as much deadlie shit you can dude

  
-ur gonna need it

  
From: Sunny D

  
-Okay.

  
-Stay safe.

  
-I’ll be waiting for you, man.

 

To: Bitch Lost

  
-brooke just hang on a little longer

  
-were coming i promise

  
^Messages to “Bitch Lost” not delivered!^

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Raising the stakes? I know her. Pacing? Pft, no. Who names their kid "pacing"?  
> Oh, and imagine that Spencer looks like Percy Jackson and Jason Grace's LoveChild. 
> 
> I was gonna write something else but I forgot what it is so...
> 
> nanannananananananana waffles. i have no purpose in life


	4. But when we are gone it will still burn on

“Jacob Grant Dillinger, stop pacing. You’re going to wear down the floor.”

 

Jake Dillinger stopped for all of four seconds to say, “That’s not my middle name,” before resuming his frantic habit.

 

Christine Canigula huffed, her cheeks puffing out. “All the same. Brooke and Chloe’ll be fine. And, Jeremy, Michael and Rich are on their way, right?”

 

“Yeah, but, still. You heard Chloe. I don’t think I’ve ever heard her sob that hard. What…” Jake dragged his hands down his face, “what the hell is going on?”

 

“I dunno, your Internet is acting up though.” Jenna Rolan remarked, absentmindedly clicking away on her computer.

 

“There are more important things then gossip at the moment, Jenna.”

 

“What makes you think I’m looking up that?”

 

“I dunno, maybe because that’s kinda all you do?”

 

Jenna looked up, glaring at Jake with a twinge of… was that hurt? “That’s not ‘all I do’.” She then sighed, and flipped her screen around. “I’ll let you know, I was watching the news. They said that it’s only affected this area, and they’re letting people know that it’s a ‘completely curable disease’ but stay inside.”

 

Jake bit his lip, and started to rock back and forth on his heels. Then Christine screamed, and launched her phone across the room. Said phone was cracked, and had began sparking.

 

Jenna then gasped, and dropped her computer, which was sparking as well. The lights over head began to flicker, and the sprinklers had turned on.

 

Jake sniffed, and smelled smoke. He raced into his kitchen, to find that the stove had caught fire. But it gave no indication that it was on. The fire began to spread, sprinklers overhead doing nothing. Jake backed away, then sprinted out of the room.

 

Christine was still screaming, only now it was at the TV. Jenna looked like she was having a panic attack. It had began to show images of… Airbud? Jake’s eyes hurt from looking at it, but at the same time it was very enticing. No sound could be heard from the TV, but the dog seemed to be mouthing something. ‘Let go’, he said, ‘let go.’

 

A loud bang brought Jake’s attention elsewhere. Another, but more like somebody was pounding on the door.

 

“Jake!” It was muffled, by both the door and loud screeching of the fire alarm… when did that go off? “Jake!”

 

“Rich!” Jake snapped his head towards the door, and raced toward the button to open it. “It’s not opening!”

 

Christine had joined him, and started tugging on the doorknob. “It’s not moving!”

 

“Get back!” Jake said, before throwing his body against the door. It didn’t move. He did it again, before violently kicking it. Not budging.

 

Jenna grabbed his arm before he could do anything more. “You’re gonna break something before that door goes down.”

 

The fire behind them had begun to lick the back of Jake’s neck. He turned around, back against the wall. Christine was hyperventilating, and Jenna was shaking. Jake started to say prayers before a loud, “GET BACK!!” was heard, and the door shuddered. It shuddered again before the end of an axe actually made it through. Jenna yelped.

 

Through the hole, Jake saw the tips of fiery red hair. Rich looked at Jake through the hole, before he shoved a chain with a hook at the end through it. Jake understood immediately. He attached the hook to the door knob, and gave Rich a thumbs up. “Watch out!”

 

“And go where?!” Christine sobbed.

 

The next four seconds were the longest of Jake’s life, but they were well worth it, as the door flew off. Rich stood on the other side, coughing and fanning at the sudden smoke. The four of them raced down the stairs and out of the apartment building.

 

Michael sat in Jake’s pickup, drumming his hands on the steering wheel. Rich ran up and started banging on the window. Michael slid out, gesturing to the azure truck.

 

“All yours,” he said, before trodding to the aforementioned cruiser, where Jeremy sat in the backseat. He slid out.

 

The six of them stood, staring at each other, and letting the gravity of the situation sink in.

 

Jake was the first to break the silence, bringing his hands to his mouth and blowing air into them. “Fuck. Holy shit. Oh my God what the hell.”

 

“I feel sticky.” Jenna said, taking her now wet scarf and jacket off. She then wiped her face, flicking the moisture away.

 

Christine jumped, grabbing the person nearest her, which happened to be Jeremy who promptly yelped, and said, “Chloe and Brooke.” Nobody moved, so Christine gestured angrily. “They’re our friends! We have to help them! What the hell are we standing here for?!”

 

“She’s right,” Rich said, dazy. He blinked, before, “go, dammit!”

 

Jake hopped into his truck, key already in the ignition. He made eye contact with Michael, who nodded. Jake hoped he understood.

 

Jenna had followed him, slipping into the passenger seat. Rich took the back, his axe now replaced with a bat.

 

“What happened to the axe?”

 

Rich looked at Jenna, jokingly offended. “What’s wrong with my bat? I Love this bat.” He then rolled his eyes at Jenna’s raised eyebrow. “I gave it to Jeremy. They need a weapon too!” He then stopped, pondering. “Though I probably shouldn’t have given it to the twink…”

 

Jake, driving on autopilot and zoning out, jumped when Jenna screamed, “stop!” He slammed on the brakes, snapping back to reality.

 

“Dude, you nearly hit Spencer!” Rich snapped, hitting the back of Jake’s seat and thankfully not him. Rich was right. Jake’s pickup was probably just inches from the back of the purple motorbike.

 

“Oh shit. Okay, yeah, I won’t do that again.”

 

“Yeah, please don’t kill my brother.”

 

Jake started again, focusing on the road this time, and tuning out the radio. They were almost there when Jake stopped.

 

“Dude, what the hell gives?!”

 

“Sorry, I was…” he blinked, glancing at the radio. The music had begun to grow louder.

 

Jenna started clapping in his face. “Yo, focus! Stop paying attention to the radio, or I’ll turn it off.”

 

“Yeah, that’s the thing. I didn’t turn it on.”

 

They all turned to the radio, which had started growing louder. The pop-country, which everybody except Jake had turned their nose up at, started sounding less like musical garbage, and more like actual garbage. Jenna started fiddling with the buttons, hoping to turn it down or off, but it started growing louder and more distorted. Suddenly, the car lurched forward, and halted.

 

“Ha ha, hilarious dude quit fuckin’ around.”

 

“I didn’t do anything.” Jake put his hands up, away from the wheel. The truck jerked forward again.

 

“Jake this isn’t funny!”

 

“Rich I swear I’m not doing anything!”

 

“So, what, the car’s got a mind of its own now?!” The radio let out a loud screeching sound, causing the three of them to cover their ears. From the back, Jake heard loud knocking. He paled, realizing what that meant.

 

“Everybody out.”

 

“What?! I can’t hear-?!”

 

“I said ‘everybody out’!!”

 

Jake launched himself out of the seat, throwing open the door. Jenna came around the front, still covering her ears. Rich had just opened his door when the truck squealed, barreling onward. Rich fell back into the seat, door swinging widely.

 

“Rich!!” Jake and Jenna called at the same time, racing after the truck. The knocking had increased in volume, and the doors were flapping open and closed wildly.

 

Rich screamed, being thrown throughout the car.

 

“Get out of there!!” The bat, rather than Rich, was the first to tumble out.

 

Jenna grabbed Jake’s arm. “Oh my god.”

 

The truck was heading towards a building. Any second now, it was bound to crash into it. And with the diesel sounding like it was, the truck would explode upon impact.

 

‘No,’ Jake thought. “Rich!!”

 

“AAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!” The 5’ 2” boy finally fell out, yelling like a mad-man, straight onto the asphalt. As Rich rolled, no doubt getting road rash, the truck smashed into a building, taking all of three seconds before exploding.

 

“HOLY SHIT!!!” Jenna yelled, backing up a little.

 

Jake ran over to Rich. “Dude, you okay?!” He was met with a groan. At least Rich was still conscious. “Did you break anything? Are you bleeding? Wher-”

 

“Ugh, slow down, ‘Nurse D’.” Rich rolled over so he could see Jake, and gave a half-smirk. “I feel just peachy.” Then he muttered, probably to himself, “can’t seem to catch a break today, goddammit.”

 

“Your face doesn’t say that. Neither do your arms.”

 

“What’s wrong with my-” Rich paused, looking at what Jake was referring to. “Oh.” His shirt and pant legs had been completely torn to ribbons, and he had serious asphalt burns. Plus he was bleeding pretty severely in his right bicep. “I’ll be fine, lemme just-” Rich pulled himself to a sitting position, wincing. “Jesus FUCK that hurts like a bitch!”

 

“Stop moving, idiot! Jenna, give me your scarf.”

 

Jenna handed Jake her scarf with no hesitation, and Jake tore a piece off of the purple fabric. He wrapped it around Rich’s cut, very focused on what he was doing.

 

“Holy fuck, that’s pretty good,” Rich murmured, admiring Jake’s handywork, “you know what you’re doing.”

 

Jake didn’t look up. “I took a first-aid class, remember?”

 

“That’s right. You and your ‘extra-circular activities’.”

 

Jenna snorted quietly from behind them. Jake glared up at her. “I heard that.” He finished wrapping the makeshift bandage around Rich’s arm, and asked, “Can you stand?”

 

“Yeah, probably. Might need a little help up though.” Rich held out his hands expectantly, shit-eating grin on his face, before yelping as Jake picked him up bridal style with a deadpan stare the whole time. “That’s good,” Rich squeaked, “you can put me down now.”

 

Jenna huffed and looked away, whispering under her breath something that sounded suspiciously like, “damn, wish I had my phone.”

 

Jake put Rich down on his feet, who stuck out his arms for balance, taking a cautious step forward. He winced, visibly grimacing, before taking another. “God, that hurts like a motherfucker but I’ll be fine for now. Did Bertha make it out?”

 

“Bertha?” Jenna said, in disbelief and confusion.

 

Rich nodded, face solem. “I named her Bertha. Bertha the bat.”

 

Jenna promptly put her face in her hands. “Jesus everloving Christ how the hell am I friends with you.”

 

Jake chuckled, grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah, she’s right here.” He went over to retrieve it while Rich whooped.

 

“Hell yeah! Nobody messes with my- aw ow ow ow bad idea bad idea.”

 

A street light over head exploded, causing both Jake and Jenna to duck out of surprise.

 

“We need to get back to the others; now. As in, right now. When those start exploding, there’s zombies right behind.”

 

“How do you know?”

 

Rich waved Jenna off with his undamaged arm. “It’s been a shit pile of a day. I’ll tell you once we… Brooke and Chloe.”

 

Jenna turned without another word and started jogging in the direction they were initially headed, Jake following, and Rich power-walking as best he could while clutching his bandaged arm.

 

Jenna increased her pace, cutting through somebody’s yard while Jake slowed his pace, overtaking her spot.

 

“Yo, what the hell?”

 

“Shortcut! I know things, Jake!”

 

Jake debated on debating whether or not to ask. He eventually decided on debating that later. He cut through the bushes to follow her, checking behind to make sure the injured was still there. About four more random cuts through places, they arrived at the infamous frozen yogurt place… Completely trashed.

 

Windows were broken, the lights had all burnt out, and the neon sign was laying on the ground. Smoke was coming from inside, giving off a pretty heavy smell.

 

Jenna had frozen, her face blank as she watched the scene.

 

Jake felt his heart drop, and his stomach crawl up his throat. “Too late,” he said, voice cracking, “Chloe and Brooke are-”

 

“Jake?”

 

Jake turned towards the voice so quickly he almost got whiplash. It sounded like it was coming from behind a patch of trees.

 

Lo and behold, Chloe Valentine and Brooke Lohst appeared, scraggled and tear-stricken.

 

Chloe took a hesitant step forward, before taking a running leap at Jake. Instinctively, he caught her. Chloe looked up, eyelashes fluttering flirtatiously. “Oh, my knight in shining armor, come to rescue a beautiful princess. A kiss of true love?” She closed her eyes, puckering her lips.

 

Jake raised an eyebrow. “I will drop you.”

 

Chloe lost the facade instantly. “At least let me have my fun. I almost died, you know.” She then stood up, really looking at Jake, and wiped her eyes. “I’m really happy to see you. I thought you weren’t going to come.” She wrapped her arms around him in a hug.

 

Jake returned the gesture warmly. “Of course I was coming. You’re my friend, you know?”

 

Chloe pulled away. “Still…”

 

“Yeah, don’t mind me. I’m just here, I don’t care.” Jenna snapped, crossing her arms and avoiding eye contact with anyone.

 

Brooke, who had been talking with and presumably hugging Rich, instantly rushed Jenna into a hug. Chloe sighed, but did the same, albeit fussily.

 

“Where is everybody else? Hiding in the bushes with you, I assume?” Rich waved his hand, pointing to said brush.

 

“Others what others?”

 

“Uh, Jeremy, Michael, Christine, my bro? Brooke, c’mon, you know them.”

 

“Nobody else is with us, Rich. It’s just you guys.”

 

Rich paled, swallowing. “What?”

 

Jake approached Rich, and in a hushed tone, asked, “You think the same thing happened to them? What, with the car and everything.”

 

“Fuck.”

 

Jenna approached the pair. Trailing behind her were Brooke and Chloe.

 

“What are we gonna do? We don’t have anywhere to go.”

 

“Jake, why don’t we go to your place?”

 

“Last we left, it was on fire.”

 

“Oh.” Chloe looked down, shuffling her feet awkwardly.

 

“Hold up,” Rich put his hands up for emphasis, “I got a text from Brooke-y over there, saying that you couldn’t go anywhere.”

 

Jake furrowed his brow. “Yeah, he’s right. I got the idea that y’all were trapped, or being cornered by… whatever the hell is going on here.”

 

“Zombies.”

 

“Right, zombies.” That felt so strange coming out of Jake’s mouth. He’d been a part of a lot of weird shit, some of it maybe illegal, but he never really cared. It was just what he did. And holy shit, now he was running from zombies, car having blown up, house probably burned down, and now they were missing four people. At Pinkberry, a goddamn frozen yogurt place. Awesome.

 

“We were. Doors were locked, lights exploding, and the dispensers were going wild.” Chloe got a distant look in her eye, face going blank. “There were voices over the-the speaker thing. And it got really cold. Like, freezing cold.” Chloe snapped out of whatever was causing her to look distant, and turned up her nose. “Then some employee yelled, ‘This is Sprata’ or something and threw an ice box at the glass window. She then ran off screaming, and we left.”

 

“First off, it’s ‘Sparta’ not ‘Sprata’,” Jake corrected, slightly disappointed in Chloe, who simply scoffed, “and second, why were you in the bushes?”

 

Brooke swallowed, biting her lip. “Well, Chloe wanted to leave, but I remembered how you said you were going to come get us, and if you showed up and we weren’t there, you could have thought we were hurt or something.” She smiled faintly, looking to Chloe nervously, as if for validation.

 

Chloe simply twirled a strand of messy hair around her finger, eyes darting nervously. “Jake, what’s going on?”

 

“Rich knows more than I do.”

 

As if on cue, everyone turned to Rich. He threw his hands up in an exaggerated manner. “Seriously?”

 

“You said you’d tell me.”

 

Rich stuck his lip out, eyes screaming ‘betrayal’. Jake simply shrugged. Rich huffed. “Fine. Long story short, people are being turned into flesh eating zombies. They ate Jeremy’s dad. Sort of. Like, that’s all I know. And then, uh, they can… raise people from the dead.”

 

“How do you know?”

 

Rich shot Brooke a glare that made her flinch and cower into herself a little. “I was attacked by Victor. Fucking. Yerrid.”

 

“Oh.”

 

Jake blinked. “What?”

 

“Yeah. I think they can also manipulate electronics? Like, lights blowin’ out ‘n shit, wires getting all fried, and other stuff, like, I dunno, we were just in the car, then like, shit started going nuts. I nearly died. That’s actually the third time today… Is that sad or badass?”

 

“Neither. That’s terrifying.”

 

“Fair point. Haven’t shit myself yet though!” Rich pointed a finger at Jake, eyebrows raised.

 

“That shouldn’t be an accomplishment.”

 

“Shut up Chloe.”

 

It was silent after that, before Jenna placed her hands on her hips, let all her air out slowly, and said, “Well, shit. There’s a grand total of five of us, two of which are skinny bitches who can’t lift for shit, a midget, my fat ass, mister Troy Bolten over here, and Bertha the bat.” Then she pulled a tight smile. “We are fucked.”

 

Jake lifted his shoulders up in an attempt at a half-shrug. “At least we have frozen yogurt.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jake drives a pickup fight me motherfuckers. Also, I know “scraggled” isn’t a real fuckin’ word but it is now.


	5. Here I Go, Again on my own

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just read I’ll explain at the end

    Christine was having a good day, damnit. She was having a very good day. School had been awesome, they had started analyzing the parallels between “the Lion King” (which was just an animalized version of “Hamlet” anyway) and actual real life politics, two things which she was very well versed in, in English. Then, she and Jenna just got to chill at Jake’s house! Like she wanted. Plus, since the run of the school show had ended, she could finally start Lacrosse soon.

 

    That was also before now, where she found herself stranded by a smoking car, a terrified Jeremy latching onto her like a koala, and Michael digging his fingers way too hard into his scalp while yelling at himself in another language. So, the afternoon was going great.

 

    “Michael, you’re going to make yourself bleed if you keep doing that,” she pried, gently trying to pull away from Jeremy.

 

    If Michael heard Christine, he gave no indication. In fact, he started tugging harder if anything else, his voice switching between extremely soft and extremely loud. Jeremy wouldn’t budge, shaking and pale, face redder than a strawberry. Both boys looked on the verge of a panic attack.

 

    And Rich’s brother, Spencer, was pacing like a madman, stopping occasionally to unleash a kicking fit upon his busted motorcycle.

 

    “Hey, we all just need to calm-” she tried again, cutting herself off when she realized no one was paying attention.

 

    Christine sighed, before tearing herself away from Jeremy forcefully. She stood up, hands on her hips. -Mom Mode: Activated-

 

    “Alright, everybody listen up!” She said, voice raised, but not yelling. Michael froze, hands still in his hair, but eyes on her. Spencer turned to face her, foot still suspended mid-air. Jeremy’s head violently snapped towards her, cracking sounds and all.

 

    “We’re stuck on the side of the road. No car, no motorcycle, and no idea if any of our friends are coming soon. This is not the time to have a freak out. So I’m going to be rude, but we need to get off our asses, and start moving.” She finished, eyebrows raised.

 

    Spencer blinked, foot finally on the ground. He nodded, and picked up the axe that lay next to Jeremy. He swung it behind his shoulders. “She’s right. We stay here, those things may catch up.”

 

    Michael let out a loud gust of air, dragging his hands down his face away from his hair. “Yeah, yeah okay. Okay. Alright.” Then he pulled a pained smile. “Ok, _nagsisinungaling ako_. Nope, not alright. Fuck.” His breathing began to become heavier.

 

    Spencer began eyeing the three nervously, free fist curling and relaxing, swallowing.

 

    Jeremy, stood up. “The car’s on fire.” He said, nonchalantly. He put on a strange, forced smile. “The car’s on fire.” Then he brought his hands over his head, eyes wide. “The car! Is on fire!! We are running! From zombies! What! The! Hell!” He started yell-screaming incoherently.

 

    Christine pursed her lips, unwilling to move forward, but not having the heart to step back.

 

    A light overhead exploded. Spencer’s head snapped towards it, and he muttered, “Oh, fuck.”

 

    “What?”

 

    “We have to go. Right now. That-that means-” he gritted his teeth nervously, fingering his jacket, “that means that the things aren’t far behind.”

 

    Christine felt inclined to agree with him, but her curiosity and ADD got the better of her. “What are they like?”

 

    “They’re human. Or, well, were, I guess. I’ve been lucky, only ran into a couple.” Then he squinted his eyes. “What have you heard?”

 

    “Um, there was one of those kinda ‘Amber Alerts’ over the TV. You know, doing the whole interrupting program things. But, uh, instead it was like ‘as of late, there had been a report of gang attacks upon schools and neighborhood. Stay inside’ And then, like, Jake turned the TV to a news station, and it was saying something COMPLETELY different. It was saying, ‘patients from a mental hospital had escaped and were violently cannibalising people’. That’s it. Oh, then, everything started going nuts. Hey, where are we?”

 

    Spencer furrowed his brow, surprised by the sudden subject change. “What? Uh, I mean, what street are we on?”

 

    She turned around, glimpsing the worn out, green sign. “I think it says,” she squinted, “I think it says, ‘Tritoard Avenue’?”

 

    “Tritead Avenue,” he corrected, looking towards the sky, “we’re on ‘Tritead Avenue’. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. We are nowhere NEAR Pinkberry.” Spencer threw his hands up. “WHAT THE FUCK DUDE.”

 

    Michael didn’t respond. He was still breathing heavily, tears forming in his eyes, and mouth opening and closing. Jeremy had stopped his scream-yelling, in favor of violently scratching his forearms and muttering to himself while bouncing on his feet.

 

    “Ngg! Jeremy don’t do that!” Christine finally rushed to him, prying his arms away from each other. Jeremy flushed bright red. “Michael, you either! You’re going to really hurt yourself, and now isn’t the time for it! We really have. To. Start. Moving!” In-time with the last four words, Christine had pushed Jeremy towards Michael.

 

    Somehow, that was what snapped Jeremy out of his panic attack. He shook his head, swallowing. “Okay, yeah no. Let’s go. I don’t want-... we don’t...” He swallowed again. “Yeah.”

 

    Spencer rolled his eyes. “Where to, then?”

 

    “I don’t know. I don’t really know my way around here...”

   

“I do.” Michael had stopped his panicking (for the most part) to raise his hand. He then turned away sheepishly. “I used to buy weed here. Stopped because the dude was racist. I guess I just came here out of habit…”

 

    Christine stared. “Yeah, and it’s WEED.”

 

    “Stop, not important.” Spencer interrupted, voice clipped. “Lead the way, red-hoodie dude. You brought us here, you get us out.”

 

    “Michael. My name is ‘Michael’. And we should be able to get out of here at some.” He took off, in a strange jog-but-not-jog. Jeremy followed close behind, Christine in front of Spencer, who was bringing up the rear. Then he grinded to a halt. “GET DOWN!!”

 

    Christine ducked. Just in time too, because a car went flying over her.

 

    “WHAT THE HELL???!!!!!!!!” Jeremy yelled, hands over his head. He then stood up, running like hell for a warehouse. Michael and Spencer followed, the former shrieking a little.

 

    Christine was a little behind them when Jeremy screamed her name. She turned, and saw another car tumbling towards her. She froze. It was meer inches from her when she was tackled out of the way. Luckily, her head didn’t hit the concrete. That didn’t stop the impact from hurting though. Christine groaned, then looked at her savior.

 

    She was lying right next to Christine, grunting in pain. Nothing appeared to be bleeding, from either of them. She turned towards Christine, her dreads hitting both of them in the face. They stared at each other for a moment, Christine opening her mouth to thank her, when another car came squealing towards them. Christine took the other girl’s hand, pulling her up and away from the road. The two ducked into a building, panting.

 

    The hickory, syrup-skinned girl held onto Christine’s hand, squeezing it before meeting her eyes. Neither spoke, but both understood. _‘Thank you.’_

 

    “Christine!” Jeremy. She turned, seeing the pale boy in the doorway.

 

The girl next to her clenched their hands tighter, as if asking, _‘Do you know him?’_

 

Christine lightly touched her arm with her free hand. _‘It’s okay.’_ They released hands, the girl nodding, before racing further into the building (which looked like it used to be a department store. Now it looked sad.)

 

“Are you okay?” Jeremy rushed over to her frantically. “Are you hurt? Bleeding? Anything broken?”

 

Christine batted at Jeremy’s hands. “I can take care of myself, thank you.”

 

Jeremy ducked away sheepishly. “Did you know her? You two seemed close, sort of.”

 

She shook her head. “No.” Christine spared a glance behind her, looking into the darkness. “I think she’ll be fine though. Come on, we need to get out of here. There’s already zombies. We don’t-” She shook her head, trying to clear it. “We should-”

 

“Yeah.” Jeremy cut her off, before his eyes widened. “Sorry!”

 

“You apologize a lot.” She stared into space. “I’ve said that before, haven’t I?” She shook her head again, this time hitting herself in the face with the back of her hand. “Focus.”

 

She took Jeremy’s hand, who yelped at the contact, and rushed out of the door. Michael and Spencer were waiting outside, but they were hidden behind some bushes. Good thing too, because the air was being littered with bullets and the occasional car. Christine and Jeremy joined them.

 

“What’s going on?”

 

“No fuckin’ idea.” Spencer gritted through teeth. “I don’t doubt there’s some zombie shit going on, though..”

 

Michael had his headphones over his ears and his hands over his headphones. His eyes were scrunched shut. He was mouthing something.

 

“We need to find the others. Michael, where are we?” Michael didn’t respond, so Spencer tapped him on the shoulder. He jumped. “Where are we?”

 

“Further down. We should be able to get out of this neighborhood. I don’t know how to get to Pinkberry though. I’ve never really been.”

 

“So you were just driving around hoping to find one before we were veered off-course.” Spencer deadpanned.

 

Michael nodded.

 

“For once, I’m not happy I’m right.”

 

Christine whapped him upside the head. Spencer turned towards her, surprised. “Be nice! You’ve been nothing but a jerk since we lost our vehicles. We’re all a little stressed, but you need to chill out.” She took a deep breath. “Michael, which way?”

 

Michael pointed left, an unreadable expression on his face. “That leads to Eastwood Middle. Less houses. Shouldn’t be too many people. It should be safe enough to think of what to do.”

 

“Then that’s where we’re going. It’s our best bet.” Christine grabbed the axe from Spencer and stood up, knees wavering. She started walking, steps wobbling, but expression fierce. There was blood on the sidewalk. She didn’t know whose it is. She didn’t know how they died. She’s running now. Rounding a corner. Almost tripping over her feet. Slipping on blood and something green that’s sticky.

 

More people are out now. They’re shouting, fighting. They all appear to be human. A light blows out. Humans won’t be the only ones out now.

 

Thunder rumbled from overhead. Lighting strikes. Christine hears screams. Maybe from her, maybe from Jeremy and Michael. Maybe both. She doesn’t stop to think who they belong to.

 

“Electrical storm!” Michael yelled. “It brewed outta nowhere.”

 

“You feel that?!” Jeremy stopped. His face was scrunched a little in concentration, tongue sticking out the faintest bit. “It’s like… it’s like something is… I don’t know.”

 

“I don’t either, but you’re right.” All of the hair on Christine’s arms and the back of her neck (and a little on her legs, but it’s nobody’s business if she hadn’t shaved in a few days) were standing straight up.

 

    “We should stay away from trees. And buildings, while we’re at it.” Spencer said, worry creeping into his voice.

 

Christine worried for Jake and Jenna and Rich. She Hoped they were okay. Brooke and Chloe crossed her mind, and she gripped the axe tighter. She took a deep breath, before starting to run again. _‘Off to find the Wicked Witch.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “nagsisinungaling ako” I lied.


	6. Goin’ down the only road I’ve ever known

To say that Jenna was helpless without her phone was a bit of an overstatement. She wasn’t necessarily a gossip mill, only on social media and acting for others entertainment. But to say that Jenna was completely able to function without it was a lie. It acted as a crutch, a thing to use when things got awkward. Like they were now.

 

    Luckily, she didn’t have to respond to the issue at hand.

 

    “So… what now?” Brooke said, tongue between her teeth. “Should we wait? Should we go and try to find them?”

 

    “I’d like to.” Rich butted in. “That’s my brother we’re talking about. Plus, Jer’s kinda one-a my friends.”

 

    Brooke nodded along with that.

 

    Chloe kept darting her eyes around like she was nervous, but she seemed disinterested. “Honestly, they’re probably fine. We can just go.”

 

    Jake stared. “Go? Go where? We have nowhere to go, Chloe. And we can’t just leave them!’

 

    “They can take care of themselves, can’t they? Just like we can take care of ourselves.”

 

    “Yeah, a bat’s going to do us justice. Like I said, ‘we’re fucked’.” Jenna replied. She was getting anxious.

 

    Brooke narrowed her eyes. “Actually, maybe we’re not. How were you coming here?”

 

    “In my pickup.”

 

    “And it was just your car?”

 

    Jake shook his head. “No. Spencer was on his motorcycle, and Jeremy, Christine and Michael were in Michael’s PT Cruiser.”

 

    Chloe scrunched her nose. “Ew, he drives a Cruiser?”

 

    “Irrelevant.” Brooke waved her off. “Where did you last see them?”

 

    Jenna bit her tongue, trying to remember. “I don’t… I don’t know.”

 

    “Me neither.” Rich said.

 

    “It was worth a shot.” Jake said, shrugging. “You tried, that’s what matters Brooke.”

 

    Brooke looked strangely at Jake, but Jenna couldn’t read her. And Jenna was very good at reading people.

 

    “Look, I just want to leave. Who cares about those other guys? Like I said, we can manage.” Chloe said.

 

    Jake narrowed his eyes, and took a step towards her. “I’m sorry, but those are our friends. We’ve established that we’re not leaving them.”

 

    “Guys, stop. We really don’t need this-” Brooke tried to intervene, but Chloe took a step towards Jake, hands on her hips.

 

    “No, I think we should. What has Christine ever done for you?”

 

    “Chloe, there’s a time and a place to be jealous. Here isn’t eithe-”

 

    “Chloe, shut the fuck up.” Jake cut Jenna off, snarling. Jenna took a step back, eyes widened in fear. “They just saved my life. What have you ever done for me?”

 

    “Jake, I can think of a million things that I’ve done for you that they could never live up to.”

 

    “Why the fuck do you care?”

 

    Jenna leaned over into Brooke’s ear. “What is this? Are we actually debating whether or not we go and try to save someone’s life?”

 

    “Seems like it.” Brooke whispered back. “This is stupid.”

 

    “Agreed.” In a louder voice, Jenna said, “Guys, seriously, let’s just stop. We can figure something out civilly.”

 

    Neither Chloe nor Jake seemed to want to listen to reason.

 

    “Chloe, you can fuck off. We’re going right now.” The last part was directed towards Jenna and Brooke, who both startled.

 

    “We are?”

 

    “Yes. Right now.” Jake turned on his heel rather sharply.

 

    “Fine! I’ll be fine on my own! Don’t need you anyway, BASTARD!”

 

    Jake stopped, and spun around, fist raised. Chloe stood her ground, arms over her chest. She turned her head, as if expecting the hit, when Rich jumped right in front of her. Everyone froze.

 

    “Stop it.” Rich said, arms in front of his head, fists balled. “Stop it, both of you. We’re actually debating going back for our friends over a petty argument. Chloe, you’re being immature. Jake, you’re being stupid. We can fight later.” Jenna knew that pose. It was a defensive stance. It was usually seen with boxers. Only Rich didn’t box.

 

    Jake lowered his fist. He seemed shaken, horrified about what he had almost done. “I… I’m sorry.” Jenna didn’t know who he was apologizing to, Chloe or Rich.

 

    Chloe uncrossed her arms, and, in a voice that was as close to sincere Chloe could be, said, ““I’m sorry. You’re right, we shouldn’t be fighting.”

 

Rich lowered his arms, shaking, deeply breathing, but trying to keep his face composed. “Okay. Okay, good.”

 

    “So what is our plan?” Brooke finally said, breaking the silence again. Nobody seemed eager to respond. “Call the police?”

 

    “You still have your phone?” Jenna asked, head cocked in confusion.

 

    Brooke nodded. “It’s just dead. Battery drained like crazy once it went freezing in there.

 

    “That would explain why it hasn’t blown up on you outta nowhere. We should probably get rid of it.”

 

    “Woah, you actually said something smart for once!” Chloe remarked sarcastically.

 

    “Christ Chloe, what’s your goal here? To get everyone to hate you? ‘Cause it’s working.” Jenna snapped. “I’m not gonna put up with this. We just risked our asses trying to get here, and then you decide to go and pick a fight with Jake, and now me. Like, what the fuck?”

 

    Chloe opened her mouth, before shutting it. She grabbed her arm, looking away. It looked like she was trying to curl in on herself. Jenna almost felt guilty about what she said. Key word being “almost”.

 

    “It’s… nevermind.”

 

    “Good, keep it to yourself.” Jake snarled.

 

    Rich grabbed Jake’s arm. “Woah there, tiger. We don’t need another fight. Look, let’s just get rid of- BROOKE BEHIND YOU!!!”

 

    Jenna hadn’t noticed that Brooke had strayed a little far from the group, not liking conflict. A scream pierced the atmosphere. Somebody had snuck up on Brooke from behind. “Behind you!” Too little too late, Brooke turned. By that point, they were on top of her.

 

    “The bat!” Brooke yelled as she struggled. “Give it!” Rich hurled it at her. Jake was poised forward, ready to help at any moment.

 

    Brooke caught the bat, and suddenly her arms were pinned against her. Jake lurched forward, and then stopped. With terrifying speed, she turned towards a tree and flipped behind her assaulter, á la Harley Quinn Suicide Squad elevator scene, and smashed its head against the tree using the bat.

 

Jenna surveyed the scene, mouth open. ‘ _How did she— holy shit, is Brooke a secret agent??!!_ ’

 

    Someone was still screaming. It wasn’t Brooke. She looked remarkably calm for somebody who nearly lost her life. Rich looked pretty okay as well. Chloe was screaming, hyperventilating.

 

    Jenna could swear that her heart had beaten out of her chest, and that it was lying along with the dead thing’s guts.

 

Brooke stumbled backwards. “Oh,” she murmured, as if the deed had just caught up with her. “Oh my God.” She stared at the blood splattered across her once flawless yellow sundress and pink cardigan.

 

    “Brooke, I didn’t know you could do that.” Jake said, in wonder. “That was… it was...”

 

    “Hot?”

 

    “Rich!”

 

    “It was!”

 

    Brooke flushed. “I’ve been taking gymnastics since I was little. My dream was to go to the Olympics. You can thank Harley Quinn for that move. Surprisingly, it’s not that hard, if you know what you’re doing.”

 

    Chloe stared at her, eyes still wide. “You never told me that.” Her voice was cracking. She was frozen in place.

 

    Brooke brought her gaze down, looking a little angry, if nothing else. She murmured something Jenna couldn’t hear.

 

    “What?”

 

    Brooke snapped her head back up. “Nothing! We uh… we really need to figure something out.” A loud crash of thunder made everybody jump. Chloe screamed again. Lightning hit the already smoking Pinkberry building, causing it to erupt in flames. It started to rain. Or, more accurately, pour.

 

Jenna put her already wet jacket over her head in order to shield herself from the sudden rain. “Well, we could start by getting out of this storm.”

 

    “Yeah, that would be best.” Jake muttered, almost angrily. Jenna knew he meant well, but he needed to work on his delivery.

 

    “Hey, doesn’t Dustin Kropp live around here?” Chloe said timidly.

 

Rich nodded. “Yeah, actually. He does.”

 

    “Oh my God, that’s brilliant!” Jenna exclaimed. “Dustin owes me a favor! Plus, he’s Christine’s cousin! If anyone can figure out what to do, it’ll be him!”

 

    Brooke scrunched her nose. “Isn’t he the guy that smells like pot and disappointment all the time?”

 

    “Yeah, but he’s actually really, really smart. Look, we need someplace to get out of the storm. Dustin’s that place.”

 

    Jake gestured towards Jenna. He had put his hood up already. “Lead the way then.”

 

    As they walked at a moderately quick pace, Jenna’s already wet jacket served no purpose as it lay draped over her head. She was a little better off than Rich, who was shivering from the freezing rain. He was the only one among them who had not donned a jacket that day, in favor of a dark gray T-Shirt reading “Come in me, Bro”. (Rich did not have the best fashion taste.)

 

    Jenna’s thoughts were interrupted when Brooke screamed. A telephone pole was collapsing on top of them. Jenna sidestepped quickly, avoiding it. Jake had pulled Chloe and Rich out of the way, and while Brooke had screamed, she cartwheeled out of the pole’s path. Despite the storm, the wooden pole was on fire, and it’s electrical cables were sparking madly.

 

    The pole took up the majority of the street, and had smashed through a building, making it impossible to go around. Jenna and Brooke rested safely on one side of the pole, while the others were stuck on the other.

 

    Thunder rumbled again, but it sounded less like the storm had made it. Strong winds hit Jenna at full force, and she stumbled back, hair whipping her in the face.

 

    “Fuck!” Jake was hard to hear over the violent wind and thunder. “We can’t go around!”

 

    “You’re gonna have to jump!” Brooke shouted, voice strong and authoritative for once. Jenna had never heard her like that.

 

    “Are you fucking crazy?!” The fire on the pole flared. Jenna couldn’t see the others now. Rich’s voice was now only being heard in bits and pieces.

 

    “What choice do you have?!” Jenna yelled back, Hoping they could hear her. “We’re not splitting up!”

 

    Whatever was trying to be said got lost. Until “COMING THROUGH!!!!!”, and Chloe was leaping over the thick pole. She stumbled on the landing, crying out in pain. Brooke shrieked, rushing over to her.

 

    “Chloe!” Chloe collapsed on the ground, gritting her teeth and clutching her ankle. Brooke was propping her upwards. “Oh my God, I think you broke it!”

 

    “Yeah I think I did too.” Chloe started crying. “It hurts. It hurts a lot!”

 

    “Shit! Chloe, what did you do?!” Jenna hadn’t noticed that Jake had rejoined their ranks. He seemed unharmed. _‘Duh, of course he would land it. He’s taken track.’_

 

    “Jake, I think she broke her ankle.” Brooke said, speaking for Chloe, who could now only make groaning sounds and sobs.

 

    “It’s my fault for wearing heels.” She choked.

 

    Jake was pale. “Listen, we gotta get you to Dustin’s. Get you out of the rain. I can help find out what you did to it. It’s best you don’t put any weight on it until then.”

 

    Chloe nodded, face contorted in a grimace. “Help me up.” Jake and Brooke aided Chloe to her feet, Jenna spotting them. “Let’s go.”

 

    “Hold on.” Jenna froze. “Where’s Rich?”

   

    “I’m here.” Rich coughed. Jenna turned to face him. He was clutching his bandaged wound, hands looking suspiciously pink. The edges of his clothes were a little scorched.

 

    “Hey, are you okay?”

 

    Rich shrugged, wincing. “Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. We have to go.”

 

    For once, Jenna didn’t press.


	7. Like a Drifter, I was born to walk alone

“It’s okay, Chloe.” Brooke said. “We’re almost there, just a little further. Hold on.”

 

Chloe kept her limping pace along with Brooke. Jenna had retaken the lead. The rain was coming down heavier now, showering them like bullets. Chloe swallowed, trying not to wince with each step. Maybe she was being over dramatic, but that’s what Chloe specialized in.

 

People were in the streets now. Some were panicking, others were trying to escape the sudden housefires, some were actively causing destruction. A woman was crying on the street. Nobody said anything, but the mood was easy to read.  _‘How did this happen so fast?’_

 

“Here!” Jenna finally said, arriving at a worn down house. It stood out from the rest of the neighborhood; it was solid wood, and a stand alone. Chloe didn’t go up the steps.

 

Jenna knocked on the door. Nobody inside answered. Jenna did it again.

 

“Maybe he’s not home?” Chloe asked. Brooke kept shifting under her, clearly uncomfortable.

 

“No, he is. Dustin! Open up! It’s me, Jenna!”

 

“What do you want?” It’s muffled, but there was definitely somebody inside.

 

“You owe me! Look, we just need a few things!”

 

There was a bout of silence. Chloe shifted her weight, wincing again.

 

“No I don’t!”

 

“Yes you do! Now quit bitching and open up!”

 

“What for?”

 

“For not telling everybody that you don’t actually-” The door flew open, and Brooke jumped from under Chloe. Jenna had a smirk on her face. “That’s what I thought. Look, we need your help.”

 

Dustin Kropp looked like a wild animal, but he rolled his eyes. “Yeah yeah. Come in.” He pointed at Chloe. “And no fighting.”

 

Chloe furrowed her brows. “Fighting? With who?” Dustin scoffed, not answering, and stepped inside. Chloe hopped up the steps, constantly shifting her weight onto Brooke. When she finally got to the top of the stairs, Chloe felt her face fall. “Oh.”

 

Madeline Lacroix sat calmly on a raggedy couch, and when her gaze fell to Chloe, her eyebrows raise. “Hello, Chloe.”

 

Chloe sneered. “Hi,  _Sis._ ” She spat the last word out.

 

“Woah, wait. What?” Jake called from behind her.

 

Madeline kept her composure calm, as if she were sipping tea. She sighed. “Well, the secret’s out, I suppose.”

 

“You two are sisters?” Everyone, spare Dustin, looked surprised. Jake was absolutely bewildered. “What?”

 

“Yeah,” Chloe snapped, “we are. ‘Funny’, isn’t it.

 

“But… you two don’t have the same last name.”

 

Chloe turned her head around to glare at Jake. He didn’t flinch; he kept the same confused, bewildered expression on his face. “No, because  _questa stronza_  sided with our mother during the argument.”

 

“You know Italian?” Jenna now sounded as confused as Jake did. Chloe rolled her eyes, head matching the movement.

 

“Yes. And for the record,  _je suis Français_ , no matter what kind of rumors Chlo likes to spread.”

 

“Don’t call me ‘Chlo’, Madie.”

 

Madeline flinched. As she opened her mouth to rebuttal, Dustin raised his hands before the argument can escalate any further. “Alright, now, see. This is exactly what I DIDN’T want.” He gestured to Jenna. “What do you need?”

 

Jenna shrugged. “Ask Jake.”

 

“I need to find out what she did to her ankle. Can we lay her down?”

 

Dustin waved his hand dismissively. “Sure, go ahead. You find any change in the couch, let me know. I’ll be right back. Jenna, com’ere a moment.” Jenna followed him into the next room, face neutral.

 

Chloe hobbled over to the couch, making a point to glare at Madeline the whole time. If she noticed, she didn’t react, opting instead to move off the couch. Chloe grimaced. “Aw, damn it.”

 

Madeline hums from where she moved to. “It’s not very ladylike to swear.”

 

Chloe knows she’s being baited. She takes it anyway. “ _V_ _affanculo._ ”

 

“ _Jake le fait_.”

 

Jake looked up, alarmed. “What about me?”

 

Madeline, honest to God,  _giggled_. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

 

Chloe grinded her teeth. She hadn’t noticed that Jake had started looking at her leg again, and the sudden pain surprised her.

 

“Does it hurt here?” Jake fingered a spot, and Chloe yelped out in surprise.

 

“Yup. Okay, you just fractured it. Should be okay with only a brace.”

 

“Heads up!” Something landed hard on Chloe’s stomach. She recoiled around it.

 

“Dustin, what the hell?!” Jake snapped.

 

“What? You needed one, didn’t you?”

 

It was an ankle brace. Chloe flipped her head over the couch to glare at him. Dustin shrugged, nonchalant grin on his face. She grumbled a thanks as Jake wrapped the brace around her ankle and Dustin walked away again.

 

“Alright, I’m not gonna ask why you have this. Chloe, do your best to not put pressure on it. We don’t wanna damage it anymore than it already is.” Jake sat back on his heels, face-to-face with Chloe again.

 

“Thanks, Jake.” She murmured, her eyes meeting his.

 

He tilted his head, a soft look on his face. “No problem. I just Hope you’re okay.”

 

Sometimes it made Chloe feel special. Their relationship was weird, but she wasn’t lying about the secrets they had told each other. She knew it was petty to hold that over him. Bite her.

 

Chloe was a lot smarter than she let people think. She just wasn’t as observant.

 

“Chloe? How did it go?” Brooke asked, peering over the edge of the couch.

 

“Well,” Chloe said, “it hurt. A lot. It still does, but I think-” she pointed to her foot, “-that I’ll be okay.”

 

“Good. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

 

“You’re too nice for your own good.” Chloe scoffed.

 

“Oh… thanks, I guess.” Brooke sounds a little deflated, but Chloe knows she’s used to it. “I’ll be right back.”

 

“It’s not like I can go anywhere.”

 

After Brooke left, Jake’s gaze hardened on Chloe for the second time that day. “Jesus, Chloe. You kind of are a bitch.”

 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m working on it.”

 

“Well, try harder.” Jake snapped. “Because it doesn’t come across that way, Chloe.”

 

“Well, we can’t all be perfect like you, Jake.” Chloe replied, heat trickling into her voice.

 

Jake furrowed his brows, and leaned his head back. “What is that supposed to mean?”

 

Chloe didn’t respond, instead huffing and turning her head away.

 

“Chloe, what does that mean?” Jake’s voice got dangerously sharp again.

 

“Can you stop please?” Neither of them had noticed Rich sitting on the opposite couch arm. He was picking at the fabric around his arm. “No offense, but your fighting is kind of getting… irritating, and it’s freaking me out a little bit. So, like, stop.”

 

Chloe and Jake both silenced. Chloe shifted. The ankle brace was beginning to itch. She shifted again, wincing.

 

“Stop moving,” Jake said, “you’ll make it worse.”

 

“Heads up!” Dustin called again. This time, whatever was being thrown was aimed at Rich. Rich caught whatever it was, before screeching and dropping it. “Hey, be careful with that, douchebag! It’s homemade!”

 

Dustin rushed over to pick up whatever he threw at Rich, while the shorter boy on the couch arm wringing his hands with sucking in through his teeth. “Ah, fuck.”

 

Chloe shifted again into a better sitting position. Jake had moved from next to her to look at Rich, while Dustin kept complaining about Rich dropping… whatever it was.

 

“Chloe.” Chloe flipped her head over the couch to face Madeline.

 

“What do you want?” She asked, voice tight.

 

Madeline sighed. “Can we please put our differences, or disagreements, or whatever, behind us for this? Please Chloe? I mean, what did I even do?”

 

Chloe scoffed. “You want a list?”

 

“Actually, yes.” Madeline crossed her arms, eyebrows raised. Chloe kept eye contact with her, before the blood started to rush to her head, and Chloe looked back upwards. Madeline sighed again. “See, this is exactly what I mean! You’re too stubborn, and you can’t even tell me why you hate me!”

 

Chloe didn’t respond, instead staring at the couch cushions.

 

“Chloe.” Madeline was raising her voice. Chloe smirked to herself. “Chloe! Chloe,  _pute_ , look at me.”

 

Chloe finally turned around, smug grin spread across her face. “ _Non è molto educato_   _a giurare_.”

 

Madeline narrowed her eyes. “Oh, that’s it you-” She cut herself off with a scream. Someone had smushed themselves up against the window with a  _thud_. “Oh my God!” They remained there, twitching violently.

 

Chloe’s heart rate was through the roof, and she was very aware of exactly how she was breathing. The person against the window made eye contact with her, and she flinched under their gaze. Their breath fogged the glass.

 

_‘That thing’s not human.’_

 

It stayed there, breathing and twitching, until it screeched and started scratching at the glass. Chloe’s hands flew to her ears. It was like the noise was inside her head. Clawing, trying to force its way; in or out, she couldn’t tell. Chloe’s eyes were scrunched shut, Hoping to block it out.

 

Suddenly the noise stopped. Chloe pried one eye open. Dustin was behind her, holding some type of shotgun. He lowered it. The glass was shattered, and the thing was gone. There was some blood in the house.

 

“Motherfucker.” Dustin said, picking up the shell he had dropped. “Had to blast my Goddamn window.” He sighed. “Sorry for the sudden shot. Here-” he casually tossed the gun to Jake, who luckily caught it, “-you have it.”

 

“What the hell was that?! You can’t just go tossing around a gun like that! Why the fuck do you even have this?!” Jake snapped, before putting the gun on safety.

 

Dustin shrugged. “You tell me. I’ve got a lot of shit that I have no purpose for. Oh! Uh, if you see Michael-” He turned around, searching in a desk drawer before he held up an old device that Chloe didn’t recognize, “-give him this. And, uh, these.” A bag was in his other hand. “He paid me in advance, and obviously, I don’t think I’ll be seeing him tomorrow.” Dustin put them on Chloe’s stomach.

 

“Gee, thanks. Because I wanted these.” Chloe moved to push them off, before Rich shrieked.

 

“Chloe, don’t do that! That’s a vintage walkman right there! Holy shit, how the fuck did you get that?!”

 

Chloe rolled her eyes. “If you want them, take them then.”

 

Rich grabbed them, wincing. Chloe saw that his hands were red, peeling, and blistering. “What happened to your hands?”

 

Rich yanked them back. “Nothing. My hands are fine.”

 

Chloe raised an eyebrow. “They don’t look fine to me.”

 

“Mind your own-”

 

Jake walked over, grabbing Rich’s hands, who yelped in pain. Jake stared at them, before glaring at Rich. “These are second degree burns. How did you get these, and why the fuck didn’t you tell me?!”

 

“I said I’m fine!” Rich said.

 

“Obviously not! Dustin, do you have some sort of bandages?”

 

Dustin shrugged. “I think I got sports tape somewhere around here. That okay?”

 

“Yeah, that’s fine. What about Aloe Vera?”

 

Dustin pointed to a desk. “Second drawer. I’ll be right back.” He turned away again, walking out of sight.

 

Jake pulled Rich over to the desk, chiding him about… something. Chloe wasn’t really paying attention to them. What she was paying attention to was a loud, static noise. She shifted, finally moving off of the couch, crying out in pain on her ankle.

 

“Don’t put too much pressure on it.” Jake warned, not turning away from Rich. Chloe waved him off, and wandered over to what was making the noise.

 

It was the thing Rich had dropped earlier, and it looked like a radio. Chloe scoffed, before picking it up and fiddling with the knobs until the static had softened and actual, coherent voices were heard. Chloe sat back on the couch arm, radio in her lap, listening.

 

“An electrical storm has brewed over top of all of the northern hemisphere-/ eismic activity has been reported over multiple hotspots across the globe-/egions of the U.S. have been reported to have extreme blackouts-/ _Despacito,_ _Quiero res_ -/esidends are told to stay inside their homes, as ment-/oeple found dead, others missing-”

 

“Wait wait wait,” Chloe looked up from the dial at Jake, who still had Rich’s hands in his own, “Go back to the other one.”

 

“/ _Déjame sobrepasar tus zonas de peligro, Hasta provocar tus gritos_ -”

 

“No no no, the one after that.”

 

“/-anibalising people, and this isn’t just reported in one area, all across Northern America this is being reported, God knows what has gotten into those people, police are trying as best they can to get the situation under control, this is no longer a National crisis, it has become a continental one, entire cities, states, countries, have fallen to chaos, there seems to be sign of any of this stopping,-”

 

“Hey, Dustin,” Rich called out, “how come that thing hasn’t blown up yet?”

 

“‘Cause it’s not electronic.” Dustin came back into view, holding up a roll of sports tape. He raised his arm to throw it, before Jake gave a warning glance. Dustin chuckled, calmly walking over and handing the roll to Jake. He turned back to Chloe, gesturing at the device in her hands. “I made the whole thing myself. It’s really weird, and I can’t explain it in a way that will make sense, but it is fully mechanical.”

 

“Dustin’s kind of an electrical, mechanical genius.” Madeline spoke up. Chloe made a point not to turn to her.

 

Dustin flushed pink. “Don’t flatter me. Do you need anything else?”

 

“No, we’re good.” Jake said, back to what he was doing.

 

Chloe shrugged, before shaking her head and turning back to the radio.

 

“Cool.” Dustin said, easily.

 

“/-we report strong radiation in geographically active areas, people are warned to evacuate their homes, and stay away from any public transportation, we now have news of multiple tornados over in the L.A. area, Miami has been completely floode-”

 

Suddenly Chloe stood up, the radio clanking to the floor. “Oh my God.”

 

“What did I just say?!” Dustin screamed from the next room over. Chloe ignored him.

 

Jake rushed over to her. “What? What is it? Are you okay?”

 

Chloe turned towards Madeline, who raised an eyebrow at the sudden acknowledgement. “Packer’s back home.”

 

Madeline’s eyes widened. She stood up as well. “ _C_ _'est une blague_.”

 

“ _Dove credevi che fosse_?”

 

“ _Suggérez-vous que_ …”

 

Chloe hardened her gaze. “ _Stai_?”

 

Madeline pursed her lips.

 

“Wait, what’s going on? Who’s ‘Packer’?”

 

“He’s our dog.” Chloe said, keeping eye contact with Madeline.

 

Jake’s eyebrows raised. “A… dog.”

 

“Yes. Our ‘therapy dog’.”

 

“I didn’t know you had a dog.”

 

“Well, we do. He goes between our houses.” Chloe gestured to Madeline and to herself.

 

“And now… what about him?”

 

Chloe looked between Jake and Madeline. “I don’t know.” She swallowed. “ _Abbiamo davvero bisogno_ …?”

 

“ _Je veux qu'il_.” Madeline said, firmly. “  _Je sais que tu le veux aussi_.”

 

“I am not risking my life for our stupid ‘therapy’ Rottweiler.” Chloe deadpanned. “I already have a busted ankle. You want me to walk on it for Packer?”

 

“Chloe, please. I know we don’t agree on a lot of things, but Packer is the one thing we have in common. Why did you bring him up if you don’t want him, anyway?”

 

“Oh, forgive me for thinking out loud. Look, you can do whatever the hell you want. But I don’t think it’s a good fucking idea to go back into… whatever is going on out there.”

 

“I’m not going alone.”

 

“Well, I guess you’re not going. Packer’s just gonna have to deal with it.”

 

“I’ll go with you.” Chloe and Madeline looked towards the speaker, surprised. Brooke shrugged, having come back from wherever she was. “I know what it’s like to want a pet that badly. Frosting just about kept me sane for half a year… before she was run over.” Brooke’s eyes saddened. “But I can go with you.”

 

Chloe scoffed. “Are you insane? Do you really think splitting up is a good idea? I mean, we’re not even safe here. And you heard the radio.”

 

“I’m coming too.” Chloe glared at the voice, and was met with an equally angry stare.

 

“Jenna, this is a terrible idea.”

 

“I don’t care.” Jenna snapped. She walked into the room from where she had been talking with Dustin, and as she passed Chloe, she violently brushed her shoulder. “Anything beats being in here. And I know my way around the city better than anyone.”

 

Chloe turned towards Jake, who was no longer fixing Rich’s hands. “Talk some sense into them, please! Tell them this is a terrible idea! That they’re not actually going to risk their lives for a dog! And!” She pointed a finger. “And! We still have Jerry, and Mitchel, and  _Christine_ and whatever to worry about!

 

Jake sighed, holding up his hands in a mock surrender. “You just told them. And I think two of those names were wrong. Look, I agree with you that this is a bad idea, but it’s not my place to tell y’all to do anything.” He turned towards Madeline and Jenna. “Come back, yeah? Besides, I think that having a dog will calm everybody down. Until we can figure out what to do.”

 

“Dustin and I figured something out.” Jenna said. “He should tell you in a bit. We should be fine and able to do this. We’re wasting time. We getting this pooch or not?”

 

Brooke nodded. “Let’s go get this doggo!”

 

Chloe huffed, crossing her arms. “Fine, whatever. Die, for all I care.”

 

“Here, you might need this.” Jake walked over, taking the shotgun from off the table Dustin had rested it on, and handed it to Jenna. “You know how it works, right?”

 

“Not really…”

 

“I do!” Madeline said brightly. She took the gun from Jenna’s hands. “Do you have any shells?”

 

“Uh…”

 

“Here.” Rich walked over to them, handing Brooke a small box in his now bandage covered hands. “I counted, like, twelve in there.” He fiddled with her necklace, and Chloe saw him finger the ring around her neck. “Come back, yeah?”

 

Brooke nodded. “Be here when we do, yeah yeah?”

 

Rich laughed, like it was an inside joke the two had. Chloe felt a pang of jealousy strike her in the chest, but she pushed it back down and looked away.

 

“Let’s go save this dog.” Jenna said, pushing open the door to the chaos.

 

When the door closed, Chloe gritted her teeth. “This is still an AWFUL idea.”

 

“You could have at least said goodbye.” Rich said, sitting on the opposite end of the couch.

 

Chloe recoiled a little. “ _Già, avrei dovuto_ …”

 

“What?”

 

“Nothing.” Chloe snapped. “It’s none of your business. Dustin!”

 

Dustin poked his head out of the kitchen. At least, Chloe assumed it was a kitchen. “Yeah?”

 

“Can I talk to you for a sec? But like, in there?”

 

“Uh, sure.”

 

“Great.” Chloe hobbled over to the doorway. She was correct, it was a kitchen. A very, very, dirty and cluttered, kitchen.

 

“So, what do you need?”

 

“What was the plan Jenna was talking about.”

 

Dustin’s face clouded. “Well…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. You made it to the end. Yay. Okay, I'm sorry. The past few weeks have just been... really weird? Idk, I just kept forgetting to update. I can't promise that I'll be back to the schedule I assigned myself, but I'm definitely not doing this again.
> 
> Here are the translations:
> 
> Italian:   
> questa stronza- this bitch  
> Vaffanculo- fuck you  
> Non è molto educato a giurare- it's not ladylike to swear  
> Dove credevi che fosse- where did you think he was  
> Stai- are you  
> Abbiamo davvero bisogno- do we really need  
> Giá, avrei dovuto- yeah, I should have
> 
> French:  
> Je suis Français- I am French  
> Jake le fait- Jake did  
> pute- bitch  
> C'est une blague- you're joking  
> Suggérez-vous que- are you suggesting  
> Je veuz qu'il- I want him  
> Je sais que tu le veux aussi- I know you want [him] too
> 
>  
> 
> Do I know these languages? Not at all! Am I using Google Translate? No! Do I know what I'm using? No! Do I know the grammatical rhythms of these languages? Stop asking questions, I only know English, German, and how to swear in Spanish! Fuck you!


	8. And I've made up my mind, I ain't wastin' no more Time

“I haven’t been to Chloe’s house since fourth grade!” Madeline was the only cheerful one in the gloomy atmosphere, which was a bit surprising. The rain had gone to a dead stop, which, if anyone found odd, they didn’t mention it. “I wonder if she still has that picture…”

 

“Okay, where are we?” Jenna said, probably to herself. “Uh-” she closed her eyes tightly, “-it’s around that way, right?” She pointed an arm out.

 

“Actually, that’s left,” Brooke muttered, “haha.” Jenna opened her eyes, and gave a little snort giggle. Brooke picked at the sleeves of her pink cardigan. “You heard that?”

 

“Have you got a whole stash of sass up there?” Jenna said, light smile on her face.

 

“Maybe?”

 

“I would pay you if you gave some to Chloe.”

 

“Oh, no. I would never use it on my best friend. She doesn’t deserve it.”

 

“I think she does. She’s not the nicest person, Brooke. She treats you like crap, and, no offence, but you can use some independence-y.”

 

“I’m fine! Chloe isn’t that mean…”

 

“Who’s ‘Frosting’?” Madeline asked.

 

“What?” Brooke said, slightly taken aback.

 

“Frosting. You said you had a pet, and then she was run over.”

 

“Oh, right…” Brooke went silent. Jenna made a motion that meant ‘continue’.

 

“Well, Frosting was my cat, see? I um, I got her as a little kitten. She was a rescue, meaning I literally found her off the street. She had this milky white fur, and when I first washed her, the shampoo-”

Brooke smiled, “-accidentally turned her pink. It was really funny. At first, um-”

 

she swallowed, “-at first, Frosting was sort of the family cat, you know? But she then became my cat after a while. Always following me around, purring at my feet when I came home, like that? And then last year, with all the-... the stuff, that happened, it was like she would listen, you know? I mean, I know she’s a cat, but she just, I would like, talk to her and stuff and she would just lay in my lap and purr, and I just…”

 

Brooke stopped in both her tracks and the story, trying to keep tears from spilling over. “Then in May, Mom accidentally left the door open a little too long, and she just-, she wandered out, and there was this big truck and-” Brooke sobbed, before covering her mouth, “-they didn’t even apologize. Just, hit and run.”

 

Jenna and Madeline had stopped. Jenna had an expression of pity, and Madeline had an unreadable expression. Finally, she said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

 

“No, no. It’s okay. I just-” Brooke took a shaky breath in, “- I need a few seconds.” After she calmed herself down, Brooke wiped her face. “Alright, let’s go.”

 

They started walking again in silence, taking in the horrific scenery once more, before Madeline said, “Packer is our therapy dog.”

 

“Oh?” Jenna said, eyebrow quirked.

 

Madeline nodded. “Yeah. He’s a Rottweiler. Chloe and I… our parents are divorced, obviously. It happened in Second Grade. Neither of us-, we didn’t react very well. We were really close, and when both parents got to keep one kid, we picked who we ‘wanted’. It was incredibly messed up, that’s what it was. But we couldn’t do anything about. Both our parents were really wealthy, so that’s why they both got to keep one twin.”

 

“What a minute, what?! Not only are you sisters, but you’re twins?!” Jenna said, looking devastated. “How am I only finding out about this now?!”

 

Madeline remained calm. “We never told anyone. And it’s not like we’re identical. But it was hard to stay close when your parents hate each other. They kept fighting everytime Chloe or I wanted a playdate. We didn’t go to the same school anymore until High School.”

 

She sighed. “And so we drifted apart. Figured our differences, I suppose. But Packer, he, ah, during the divorce, Chloe and I went into a strong period of… we just couldn’t take the fact that we weren’t one family any more. As little kids, it was okay, because it was expected of us. But when you’re still breaking down in 6th grade, it’s not ideal. Chloe and I got to see each other again, before she ‘saw how different we are’, and our parents got us a therapy dog. Every month, he stays at the other person’s house.”

 

Madeline smiled. “We picked him out together, because we were under the idea that we could share him. And I know she doesn’t want to admit it, but Chloe doesn’t want a different dog. We both Love Packer to death. I suppose I still Hope that he can help us sort our differences out. But Chloe is determined to keep us separate.”

 

“You don’t know that,” Brooke said, gently, “she might want the same thing as you! You two just have to talk.”

 

“Good Luck getting Chloe to open up when she’s not angry.” Jenna sighed. “You know how she gets.”

 

“But you just need to ask-!”

 

“Brooke, I appreciate the help,” Madeline cut her off, calmly but forcefully, “really, I do. But Chloe doesn’t seem to want to, and that’s that. Let’s let it go, okay?”

 

_‘If that’s the case, why’d she seem to want Packer?’_ Brooke thought, but she kept quiet.

 

A light exploded overhead, cutting through the tense atmosphere.

 

“Shit.” Jenna said aloud. “That’s not good. Alright, we need to move faster, because what we’re doing isn’t good enough.”

 

“Then I suppose we should.” Madeline started to match Jenna’s pace, leaving Brooke to trail behind.

 

Except for the occasional exploding light, it had gone unusually quiet. It was strange.

 

“Where are we?” Brooke asked, finally.

 

“Dogwood Road. There’s a shortcut through the back of it. Nobody ever goes back there. It’s actually part of how I get around the city so well. You can get to almost any neighborhood if you walk far enough.” Jenna smiled again, like she had played a straight flush, but was yet to reveal an ace hidden up her sleeve. “Again though, only part of it. A magician never reveals her secrets.”

 

“Is it a good idea?” Brooke asked. Jenna narrowed her eyes. “I-I’m not saying that we shouldn’t, but if it’s surrounded by woods, like you say, we could be ambushed at any second.”

 

“In that case-” Madeline cocked the shotgun, face still in a smile, “-they’ll get to say hello!”

 

“Oh,” Brooke sighed, defeated once more, “yeah, okay.”

 

“We’re burning daylight here, let’s get moving.”

 

The three silently walked along the empty street, Jenna muttering to herself occasionally, confirming directions out loud. Madeline was still unusually cheery, and Brooke was left to her thoughts. Which was okay with her.

 

A scream echoed throughout the street. The three girls looked at each other. It was none of them. Madeline cocked the gun. “Shall we, ladies?” She asked, as if they were going to tea. It was startling how steely calm Madeline was. Brooke, however, felt like her heart would beat out of her chest. And it was most definitely not the running.

 

A woman was racing towards them. She kept stumbling, as she was holding her heels in her hand, but Brooke personally knew how hard it was to run in heels. Hell, Chloe had a twisted ankle from doing that exact thing. But concrete was not light on bare feet. And the woman was trying to run in a pencil skirt. Not exactly a feat easily achieved.

 

Madeline started her pace a little faster to meet the woman halfway. Brooke and Jenna staggered a little behind, as it was almost as hard to run in heels as it was Gladiator Sandals. Brooke’s arches were dying.

 

“Miss!” Madeline called. “Get out of the way!”

 

“What?” The woman called, confused. It took her a moment to realize that Madeline was holding a shotgun. “Oh!” She did as told. With a perfect aim, Madeline hit the woman’s pursuers in the chest. One fell to the ground, still twitching but imobile. The other continued its path, but a little slower. Madeline discarded her shell, and shot again. This time, its head blasted clean off, and the body fell.

 

The woman stood off to the side, bent over, trying to catch her breath. Brooke finally caught up with the pair. She approached the woman carefully. “Ma’am?”

 

“Hmm?” The woman looked up, her hands still on her knees. “Oh, hello.”

 

“Are you alright?”

 

The woman smiled between breaths. “I am now, thanks to you. What are you doing out? It’s not safe. And why do you have a gun?”

 

“The same could be said to you, oh my God.” Jenna was the last to meet the group, and it came as a surprise to no one. Besides, Brooke had always seen Jenna skip P.E. to do something else. She still showed up, just did not participate. She was panting almost as badly as the woman, but she clutched her chest as well.

 

The woman’s smile faltered. “I, uh, whew! Aaaww,” she gave a final puff of air, and stood up straight, “my husband and I, Jim, we took a road trip to New York, and we’re on our way back down to Pennsylvania. Obviously, this is not Pennsylvania, but a bunch of roads were blocked due to some sinkhole or something. Then the car went all haywire, and we had to get out. Jim went to go get help, and while he was gone, those, um, those things started chasing me. I don’t know where Jim is...” she said the last part like a realization. “Oh, I’m Pam, by the way.”

 

“I’m Madeline,” Madeline answered politely, “this is Brooke and Jenna.” Brooke gave a small wave when her name was called, and Jenna gave an extra loud wheeze at her name that was probably supposed to be a ‘hi’. “We’re off to fetch my dog.”

 

“Risking it all for a dog?” Pam said, a little confused.

 

Madeline nodded. “Yes ma’am. He’s very important to me, and I Love him very much. He’s a member of the family.”

 

“Your parents are okay with this?”

 

For the first time that day, Brooke remembered her mother, and brother Bryan. She Hoped they were okay. She had no plans to go to her house, and her brother’s collage was a less than ideal destination.

 

Madeline faltered. “I… I hadn’t thought about that.”

 

Jenna had stopped panting, as if to think. “I don’t know.”

 

Brooke felt tears gathering in her eyes. “Oh…” Her chest started to hurt. “Oh.” Her vision was watering, when she suddenly felt arms wrapped around her. Pam was hugging her.

 

“It’s alright sweetheart. You weren’t thinking, it happens to the best of us.” Brooke swallowed, before hugging the older woman back. “It’s okay.” It’s silent; Brooke couldn’t see Jenna or Madeline, she just felt the embrace of this random woman named Pam. Pam ran her fingers through Brooke’s hair, before she pulled away. “I have to go.”

 

Madeline walked up to Brooke, grabbing her arm, if not a little violently. “As do we, Mrs. Pam. I Hope you find your husband.”

 

Pam nodded at Madeline. “Good Luck.” She ran off, barefoot, turned around one last time to wave, and finally, disappeared from Brooke’s vision.

 

She wiped her eyes again, and shocked herself. “Ow!” She looked at her hand, then to Madeline and Jenna. “What was that?”

 

“You shocked yourself. Don’t you feel it?” Jenna said, head darting around with a dark gaze to match.

 

“Feel what?”

 

“Electricity,” Madeline said, pursing her lips, “so thick you can almost see it.”

 

A window shattered, startling Brooke, and causing Madeline to scream a little. Jenna had jumped. The rain started up again, but when it hit Brooke, it shocked her very violently.

 

“Oh no,” she murmured, “oh my God. Jenna, is this path covered by trees?”

 

“Enough, yeah. Why?”

 

“Water. Doesn’t it conduct electricity?”

 

Madeline took off running with no warning. Which was easy for her because of her converse, but for Brooke and Jenna, not so much. Many steps, feet crying out in pain, and painful shocks later, Brooke had caught up to Madeline. She was waiting in a clearing surrounded by trees behind an office-looking building. Brooke glanced behind her, and Jenna was struggling to catch up, but otherwise okay. Brooke waved, and Jenna gave a half-hearted wave back.

 

Madeline turned into the woods, and started to walk down the path. Brooke followed. They walked in silence, which was only broken by Jenna’s heavy breathing once she caught up. “Don’t do that again,” she said between breaths. Madeline said nothing, but Brooke mouthed ‘sorry’.

 

Five minutes and a few turns had passed before Jenna asked, “Where are we?”

 

Madeline and Brooke froze. “What?”

 

“I said ‘where are we?’ And the question still stands.”

 

“You mean this isn’t ‘Dogwood’?” Madeline asked, voice slightly more timid than before.

 

Jenna shrugged. “I mean, yeah, the street was, but I’ve never been back here before.”

 

Brooke could feel the panic slowly coming off of the other girls, so before it escalated, she said, “let’s turn around, go back the way we came. We should be able to find it, right?”

 

Jenna let out a breath. “Yeah, no that should work.”

 

Turns out, the last turn was a crossroads.

 

“Which way did we come from?” Brooke asked. Madeline swallowed, but gave no response. Jenna stared blankly ahead. “Oh.”

 

“Yup.” Jenna ran a hand through the part of her hair that wasn’t up. “We’re lost.” Then, probably to herself, she muttered, “nice going Madeline.”

 

“It’s not my fault you wanted to get to Dogwood so badly. You said it was around here!” Madeline had heard. “We’re lost because you didn’t give proper directions!”

 

“No, we’re lost because you didn’t know where you were going!” Jenna’s nostrils flared, but her tone did not change.

 

“Can we please not do this again?” Brooke asked, but neither were listening. Brooke fiddled with the ring around her neck, biting her lip and thinking. They were lost, Madeline and Jenna were fighting, and once again, Brooke was helpless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> o o o p s.
> 
> Thank you so much to my fantastic readers, and of course my beta reader guitar_babe (who's a really awesome person! Love ya, kid (no homo)).
> 
> Thanks to all y'all stickin' around, and buckle up, 'cause this ride's only just starting.


	9. I was caught, in the middle of the railroad track

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so the cycle repeats. (That's not like a super weird plot point, I'm just pointing out the POV repeat.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuck writing suspense. I listened to podcasts, watched videos, READ BAD MYSTERY NOVELS, and I still can't write it. Bitch at me in the comments. Or not. Whatever floats your boat.

“We are so fucking dead.” Jeremy heard Michael mutter. He glared at Michael, who gave a half-hearted apologetic shrug. “I’m not wrong!”

 

“I thought we agreed I was the ‘pessimist’!” Jeremy said.

 

“Yes, but we never said that I was supposed to be the optimist!”

 

“Guys!” Christine whisper yelled to them. Jeremy and Michael faced her. She was waving her hands ecstatically from her spot behind a tool crate.  “Keep it down!”

 

Spencer could only manage a facepalm.

 

They were hiding in an auto mechanic's garage, praying that their recent pursuers would lose interest in them once they disappeared from sight. And it had sort of worked, but now, a few zombies were rummaging around in the garage, which meant that if the four wanted to keep their lives, they’d have to shut up and hide. There weren’t that many place in such a wide open room, but they were at least hidden from view to anyone with a slightly less than someone with an eye for detail.

 

That left Jeremy and Michael crouched in a crawlspace, Christine hidden behind a tool crate, and Spencer, being some strange parkour wizard, on top of an (at least) 8 foot tall shelving-system-cart-thing. They were hidden from plain view, but still in sights of each other.

 

Jeremy’s very few brain cells capable of patience, as well as his many who were capable of freaking out, were dying very quickly. He had stopped shaking, and the need to tear his skin off had stopped, so that was good. But for some reason, his body thought it would be great to continuously sweat out of every pore known to man, as well as overload his senses, so. That was fun.

 

A crowbar clattered to the cement floor, and made both Jeremy and Michael jump.

 

Nobody moved.

 

Christine looked mortified and terrified at what she had done.

 

Something grunted, and footsteps started to get louder.

 

_‘We’re so fucking screwed right now. We’re completely and utterly going to die.’_

 

Michael was death-gripping Jeremy’s arm so hard that Jeremy’s fingertips started to go numb.

 

Jeremy could see the bottom of somebody’s legs.

 

His breath stopped as the figure lingered just a little too long right in front of them.

 

Everything else was so quiet Jeremy could hear his own heartbeat.

 

_Ba-Boom._

 

Jeremy heard the groan of something no longer living.

 

_Ba-Boom._

 

He shut his eyes tightly, seeing spots.

 

_Ba-Boom._

 

Bones creaked from disuse.

 

_Ba-Boom._

 

Time stood still.

 

_Ba-Boom._

 

Footsteps faded, and Jeremy let out the breath and opened his eyes. Michael had yet to unclench from Jeremy’s arm, but he seemed aware of what had taken place. He gave Jeremy a half hearted smile, but the light in his eyes was anything but half hearted.

 

Jeremy carefully looked out, and saw the garage was now empty and nobody was lingering at the entrance. He stood up, Michael following suit. Christine crawled out from behind her box, breathing heavily. Spencer leaped down from where he was silently, almost like a cat. Christine picked up the crowbar, and set it next to the small hatchet of an axe on top of the toolbox.

 

“That was… an experience.” Michael said, if only to break the silence and lower the tension in the room.

 

“I am so, so, so, so, so, sorry. I was careless and almost got us killed. It won’t happen again.” Christine looked like she didn’t know how to react. Jeremy didn’t blame her in any way, but he didn’t know how Michael or Spencer felt. Michael’s face was neutral, but Spencer looked like he was fighting to keep his face as such.

 

“It’s fine,” Jeremy started, but Spencer cut him off.

 

“How much further until the school?”

 

Michael shrugged. “Uh, I think we just turn left at the next intersection, and it should be just down the road. There’ll be less ‘n less houses and we’ll see the school. It actually should be empty, now that I think about it.”

 

“Yeah, ‘cause schools out.” Jeremy replied, rolling his eyes.

 

“Shut up.” Michael muttered, zero heat behind it. He had the ghost of a smile on his lips, and Jeremy lightened just the slightest bit.

 

“Then let’s go.” Spencer picked up the crowbar, tossing it to Michael, who fumbled with it for a moment, and then when it clattered to the floor, he picked it up sheepishly.

 

Spencer started to throw the axe at Jeremy, before pursing his lips and deciding that it was an obviously bad idea. Jeremy silently thanked whatever gods were out there.

 

He turned around to give Christine something, but she had already armed herself with a pipe wrench. She smiled still. “Thank you, but I’ve got myself covered.” Her smile was sweet and genuine. Jeremy wished he were on the receiving end of it.

 

“Great,” Spencer said, voice gravely, “let’s get moving.” He let Michael out of the garage first, before following him.

 

Jeremy started muttering to himself in a sing-song voice: “So, come here often? No, of course you don’t, ‘cause it’s a zombie apocalypse and we’re all gonna die~”

 

“I’m sorry, did you say something?” Christine’s voice broke through both Jeremy’s thoughts and voice, causing him to jump a little.

 

“Oh, me? No, I’m good. Just, uh, thinking out loud. You know how it is.” Jeremy wanted to smack himself right across the face.

 

“Actually, yeah! I talk to myself out loud all the time.” Christine wasn’t making fun of Jeremy, or patronizing him in any way. At least, not that he could tell. She started to lean in as close as possible while still walking. “Sometimes, I think I hear voices in my head. Isn’t that crazy?! Tell me that’s crazy.”

 

 _‘That’s crazy.’_ Jeremy mentally echoed.

 

“Do you get that sometimes? Like, the voice that you speak with is not the same one in your head? ‘Cause like, I totally feel that.”

 

“Actually,” Jeremy’s voice broke, going all high and squeaky, so he cleared his throat before talking again, “actually, yeah. Yeah, I think I feel that too. Sometimes, I mean! Not all the time. ‘Cause that would be, uh, really crazy.”

 

Christine smiled, and lightly knocked Jeremy’s arm with her fist. Jeremy’s heart skipped a beat. “See, we’re bonding already.”

 

Jeremy was so focused on making sure that his face wasn’t red that he tripped over his own feet. “Shit,” he murmured aloud, “nice going there.”

 

“Are you okay?” There it is again. That concerned expression. That sweet, caring, concerned expression.

 

“Yeah! Yeah, no, I’m good.”

 

“Good, because- JEREMY LOOK OUT!”

 

Jeremy barely had time to turn around before he was grabbed by his hoodie. Some tax accountant had grabbed him, or at least, what used to be one. Jeremy couldn’t move, so he was left with screaming and kicking. He was lifted in the air, and his arm with the axe in it was being clenched with zero mercy.

 

Suddenly, blood and pus splattered all over Jeremy, and he fell to the ground. Michael had stuck his crowbar in the dead tax accountant, whose twice dead body promptly collapsed onto Jeremy.

 

He felt himself gag. “Gross.” He creaked, pushing the body off of himself. Michael helped him up, grasping Jeremy’s hand firmly.

 

“Stop getting yourself into trouble, you idiot. You have an axe for a reason. _Ngunit hindi ko kayo nawawalan_.” The last part was something Michael had muttered to himself, like he didn’t mean to say it aloud.

 

“Hey, Michael?”

 

“Yup?”

 

“Can I, uh,” Jeremy squeezed their hands together, “can I have my hand back?” Michael quickly let go of Jeremy’s hand. “Thanks. And I wouldn’t really call this an ‘axe’. Sad looking hatchet, maybe.”

 

“You’re a sad looking hatchet.” Michael yanked the crowbar out of the tax accountant, stumbling backwards a little. He slipped on the fluids that were, well, flowing, out of said tax accountant, and fell on his ass. “AW SHIT!!!”

 

Jeremy ducked over laughing. “Nice!” He stuck out his hand. “Who’s the one in need of saving now?”

 

As Michael stood up, he said, “still you, gay Zelda.”

 

“Don’t even go there. And you got me this shirt! So you can’t be talking.” Jeremy fidgeted with the thumbholes of his gray hoodie. “I thought it was cool.”

 

“Of course it’s cool, I gave it to you. Besides, the rainbow triforce helps you look less ‘MCR’-ish.”

 

“Oh shut up.”

 

“Hey,” Spencer interjected, “hate to break up this little bromance thing, but you know. Apocalypse and death and all?”

 

Michael sighed, and left Jeremy with Christine again.

 

“I like your shirt.” Christine said, if only to break the silence. “It’s bright and goes ‘notice me!’, y’know? Unless, you don’t want to be not noticed. Then it would be a problem, huh?”

 

“Yeah. I like, your, uh,” Jeremy gestured to Christine’s outfit, “your jumpsuit?”

 

Christine chuckled. “Thank you! And it’s not a jumpsuit, it’s a romper. But you were close! My mum helped repurpose it. She’s an AMAZING sewer. She’s probably wondering where I am right now…” Christine bit her lip, like the thought had just occurred to her, and Jeremy felt whatever positivity he had in him plunge into despair.

 

His stomach started lurching repetitively, and he felt himself start to gag.

 

“Jeremy?” Was all he heard before Jeremy threw up on the concrete. Christine shrieked the slightest bit in surprise and jumped backwards to avoid the spew of vomit, but otherwise, rushed towards Jeremy. “Oh my God! Are you okay?”

 

Jeremy tried to say, ‘yeah I’m fine!’ but instead continued to retch and dry heave crouched over and clutching his stomach, so what came out was something more like; “-ah ‘m -in!”

 

A pair of hands found their way to Jeremy’s back, rubbing up and down. Instantly he knew it was Michael. The two knew each other’s habits and reactions like they knew their own. Over his heaving he could hear Michael tell Christine, “He isn’t the best when it comes to stress. Or anything, really.”

 

Jeremy did not hesitate to flip Michael the bird, who simply gave a light chuckle.

 

“It wasn’t my fault was it? Jeremy, I’m so sorry. Was it something I said? Did I do something? Am I asking too many questions? I’m so so sorry, I-” Christine was talking at the speed of lighting, and from what Jeremy could see she was moving very animated-ly as well. He waved his hand nonchalantly, before more vomit joined the current pile on the ground. Jeremy dry heaved once more, and he suddenly stood up straight, coughing violently.

 

“I think that’s all of it,” he said, voice dry, “my stomach is completely empty.” Jeremy wiped at his mouth, and wiping his hand on his jeans. “Ugh, I might throw up again just from the taste.”

 

Christine kept talking. “I didn’t mean to make you do that, are you okay?” Jeremy scratched the back of his neck, not knowing how to respond, because while Christine usually did render Jeremy speechless, he did not know how to tell her that Yes! It was in fact her fault! Not that she knowingly did, but it’s not like she could know that his dad was eaten alive. Jeremy’s palms began to sweat, heart stuttering at that fact.

 

“Hey, Christine?” Luckily, Michael saved the day. Again. Jeremy needed to break that. “I think maybe you should go with Spencer for a bit while I calm him down.”

 

“But-”

 

“I gave him directions.”

 

“Is he-”

 

“Please.”

 

When Jeremy opened his mouth to talk, all he could muster was another coughing fit. Christine reached for him, but at the last moment, she backed away, nodding. “Yeah, okay. I’m sorry.” She caught up with Spencer, who was watching the scene wordlessly. He sent a nod to Michael.

 

“Dad?” Michael asked. Jeremy nodded, using his not puke hand to wipe at his eyes, which were sporting tears. Michael pulled him into a hug. “It’s alright man. You haven’t had time to adjust, go through the grief and all that. But we’re gonna figure it out, right man? We’ll burn that bridge when we get to it.”

 

“I don’t think that’s right,” Jeremy half-coughed, half-sobbed.

 

“Doesn’t matter.” Michael gripped Jeremy’s shoulders, breaking the hug to look at his face. “We don’t have the time right now. We can properly grieve at the Middle School. Heh, there’s a redundant sentence.”

 

Jeremy paled, well, more so than when he was throwing up. “I’m sorry. I forgot about-”

 

“Don’t.” Michael’s face darkened, but his eyes held a sadness. Jeremy could see it, because the brown eyes Michael had never held that cloud over them, not even when stoned. “Like I said,” he plastered a smile back on, which Jeremy tried to match, “burn it when we get to it. Come on, let’s go.”

 

When Michael and Jeremy caught up to Christine and Spencer, who weren’t all that far ahead, Christine started rapidly apologizing again.

 

“It’s okay!” Jeremy cut her off in the middle of her incoherent rant. “You didn’t know, I’m fine.”

 

“Didn’t know what? No don’t answer!” Christine stuck out her hands and waved them. “Don’t listen to me! I’m sorry. I can’t control myself sometimes. OW!! What was that?”

 

“What was what? Ow!” Jeremy gripped his wrist, looking up. A drop of water hit Jeremy in the face, shocking him.

 

“Get to cover! Come on!” Spencer shouted. He was racing towards the general direction of the school.

 

Jeremy followed, jumping continuously at every drop of water.

 

“Seems like that electrical storm caught up with us!” Michael yelled.

 

“The hell kind of thunderstorm has water that shocks you?!” Jeremy yelled back. Every hair was on end once more.

 

“There!” Michael next yelled something that brought relief to all of them. “It’s right there!”

 

Spencer was the first to the doors, Christine was next.

 

“They’re locked!”

 

“Back up.”

 

Spencer had kicked the doors open by the time Jeremy and Michael caught up, both pretty well out of breath. The doors slammed behind them, making Jeremy jump.

 

Michael slouched against the doors. “Hallelujah, holy shit.”

 

“Right?” Jeremy just collapsed  on the ground. “Oh my God.”

 

Christine started laughing, but it wasn’t quite as natural as she was trying to play it off. “This is unreal.”

 

“Of course, that brings the question,” Spencer said, the only one not sitting, “We’re here. So what now?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tagalog Translation: 
> 
> Ngunit hindi ko kayo nawawalan- I can't lose you (Pining or not, Micheal's very codependent)
> 
> I was watching Chick Flicks/Romantic Comedies the entire time I wrote this chapter. Those Chick Flicks included but were not limited to: Mamma Mia, Bring It On, Steel Magnolias, Clueless, and Mean Girls. (Love Chick Flicks. They're just great and positive all around.)


	10. I looked 'round, and I knew there was no turning back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate this chapter with all my heart. I really wanted to just skip over and go to Rich's, but because I'm an obsessive bastard who likes things set to a t, I can't do that.

****

“We walked all this way,” Spencer continued, “it’d be pointless to turn around.”

“Now,” Michael said between breaths, “we think of something.” He tried to sit up, before his calves wobbled and he fell back against the doors. “Scratch that, I’m just gonna relax.” He looked at the crowbar in his hand. “This is disgusting.” 

Jeremy snorted, and snatched it from Michael’s hands. He wiped some grime on his fingers, and proceeded to wipe it on Michael's hoodie. Michael screeched, scrambling away. “What the hell?!”

Jeremy was cackling like a mad-man. “Your face!” He continued to double over in laughter, clutching his stomach and kicking his legs out, almost looking like he was having a fit.

Christine was biting her lip and looking back and forth between Michael and Jeremy, almost like she wasn’t sure if she could laugh or not.

“Not funny!” Michael said, though he was smiling too.

Jeremy ducked his head, giggling, and when he came back up, his cinnamon colored hair in his eyes, Michael’s heart did a small gymnastics routine. He chalked it up to the situation they were currently stuck in.

Unfortunately, Jeremy's laughter faded into coughing, and Michael’s smile disappeared. Jeremy spit something onto the faux tile floor that broke dreams and had kids listening to MCR unironically, and it was not a pleasant color. 

“Oh,” Jeremy muttered weakly, “I thought I’d puked all my guts out already.”

“Guess not,” Michael tried, but he wasn’t feeling too hot himself. His limbs felt like jelly, and his arms were limp. It hurt to swallow, and a stinging sensation that he felt bad to say he knew all too well began pricking at his eyes. Michael felt some warmth return to his fingers, so he clenched his fists together in an effort not to cry, looking at his knees.  _ ‘Not here,’ _ he thought to himself,  _ ‘not now.’ _

“Michael?” Christine. Michael looked up at her. She had crawled in front of him, and her face was swimming with a kind concern. “It’s okay to cry. It’s not fun, but we’re all human, right?”

He nodded, blinking and looking away.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Nope.” Michael announciated the ‘p’. He shook his head, still trying not to cry. “I’m fine.”

“You’re clearly not. Fine.” Christine swallowed. “Michael it’s okay-”

“Actually it’s not,” Michael said, voice on the verge of snapping, “it’s really not okay. See, my moms, and two of my sisters and brother are still out there, and my dogs and cat, and there’s a huge possibility that I’ll never get to see them ever again. So yeah! Yeah, it’s not okay. And now I’m crying.” He covered his eyes the heels of his palms, rubbing at his eyelids. “I’ll never see them again…” he whispered the last part, and a fit of anger overtook him. 

“ _TANGINA_!!!!” Michael shouted, throwing his glasses to the floor. “ _Ito ay hindi matuwid_!!! _Bullshit_!!!” He pulled at his hair, refusing to open his eyes. “ _Lahat Bullshit_ …” His body started racking with sobs, and he started taking in uneven gulps of air. “I’m sorry, you shouldn’t, hav-have to see th-” Michael couldn’t even finish the sentence. 

This was infinitely worse than anything ever that Michael had done or been through. He didn’t know what to do. He rubbed his hands against the tile. It was smooth, cool, and slightly dirty.

He didn’t know how much time had passed. Seconds could feel like hours, minutes like days. Everything was so loud, and he could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears.

Michael couldn’t move. It was all too much. Everything was spinning and it was all too slow because nothing was moving.

And then it all stopped. 

Somebody had grabbed the sleeve of his hoodie. It was Jeremy. He looked on the verge of crying.

“Come here, man.” 

Jeremy pulled him into a hug.

Michael felt grossly stupid and angry for sobbing into his shoulder, probably getting snot and tears all over Jeremy’s hoodie. 

While clutching the gray fabric, Michael came to the silent realization that Jeremy was probably all he had left now.

He made a silent promise to not lose him too.

Michael’s crying had slowed enough to the point where he wasn’t shaking with sobs. The tightness yet numbness in his chest was still there, but suddenly he didn’t feel like letting it out so much any more. It would just stay until it went away.

Michael’s thoughts were carrening very slowly down a depressing trail when he heard a door slam.

Michael jumped away from Jeremy, looking down the hall blurrily.

“What was that?” Christine. Michael had forgotten she was there. He had forgotten anyone except Jeremy was there, really.

“I don’t know.” Spencer said. “We should go check it out.”

“Or not.” Michael said, voice cracking a little, and taking in choppy, uneven breaths. “Or we could not.”

“Why not?” Spencer asked, steely edge to his voice.

Michael began to fumble around for his glasses, sniffing still. “You hear an ominous door slam, in the middle of an zombie infested city, and all we have is a crowbar, a weird wrench looking thing, and a sad excuse for a hatchet.” Michael found something that felt like his glasses, and he could see that he had grasped something that matched their outline. He put them on, and found that the right lens was cracked to all hell, but he could still mostly see out of it. Michael’s depth perception would just be weary for a bit before he got used to it. “And you wanna go ‘check it out’.”

Spencer narrowed his eyes, looking around a bit before saying, “Yes?”

Michael nodded, and very seriously said, “that’s brilliant. Would you recommend hiding behind chainsaws to escape a serial killer?”

“Alright I’ve it up to here with your passive aggressiveness you-”

Spencer stopped when the lights started flickering overhead, and with a loud clap of thunder that had the building shaking, it went pitch black. Well, not pitch black. Michael could still mostly see through the tiny windows on the door.

“Motherfucker.” That was Jeremy. While his eyes adjusted, Michael could see Jeremy sitting next to him still, but a little more pushed against the doors.

Another door slammed, but it sounded a little closer this time. It was so LOUD.

“Is everyone alright?” Spencer asked quietly, and while Michael knew he was just trying to manage the situation, everything about his voice just pissed Michael off.

“Define ‘alright’.” Jeremy said, voice cracking to a new octave. It hurt Michael’s ears, but he ignored it.

“Not dead.”

“Only on the inside haha...”

“I’m okay too.” Christine said, her voice much softer than the other two. She was tapping the ground nervously. Michael felt like grabbing her hands to stop it. “Although, I don’t think my dignity is.”

Spencer hummed while exhaling through his nose. “So, Mike-”

“Don’t call me that.” Michael snapped, coming out much more aggressive than he meant to.

“So, Michael,” Spencer’s tone was much more clipped this time, “it was your bright idea to bring us here. What’s your plan now?”

Michael bit his lip in thought, unsure what to do himself. Usually, life was like a game. You have an objective. Complete it. Repeat. And then you die. For Michael, the objective was usually, “Go to school”. There were side-quests of course. Such as “find out the mystery meat in today’s lunch”, “try not to get too stoned so nobody can smell it on you”,  ~~ “don’t have a panic attack in a bathroom” ~~ . But suddenly it was like the genre of the game had switched. Like a first person shooter was suddenly an RPG with morally gray choices to rival Fallout’s.

And Michael was confused to all hell. Not to mention everything was so LOUD that he couldn’t think.

“Um, we’re trying to find the others, right?” Christine had saved him from speaking. “That should be our main priority.”

“Michael!” Jeremy exclaimed, startling Michael. “The Zach Shack!”

“The what?” Spencer asked, but Michael was too caught up in his own thoughts to listen. He ran his fingers through his hair, trying so hard to navigate his mind through everything. Nothing was so loud anymore.

“How could I have forgotten? We were there all the time when we were little!”

“I’m pretty sure that’s because you’ve forgotten your own birthday before.” Jeremy said, but Michael could see the faint smile on his face.

“You’ve forgotten my birthday before!”

“That was one time!”

“Hey, focus!” Spencer snapped. “What is the ‘Zach Shack’?”

“Long story,” Michael waved him off, “but it’s around here. There’s a rock quarry behind the school, and there’s a path that leads to a forest. Point is, my… older brother, Zach, he used to go here, he kinda found an old shed and made it his, uh, ‘home-away-from-home’ for a bit.” Michael looked at Jeremy. “You think some of his tech can still operate?”

“You mean the gameboy, or atari?”

“I guess, but I meant the headset and mic.”

Jeremy snapped his fingers. “Dude! I bet our can stash is still there.”

Michael snorted, leaning forward a little in laughter.

“Your what?” Spencer sounded disgusted.

“Unimportant.” Jeremy sniggered.

“You said mic?” Christine finally spoke up. “It doesn't happen to have one of those frequency tuners, where you can listen in on other people, does it? My cousin has a radio.” She looked at the strange expressions she was given. "Hey, he talks, I listen. He does the same for me."

“But wouldn’t that not work anymore?” Spencer said.

“You’re talking like the whole world is devoid of electricity. I think it’s just some tech going haywire.”

“Yeah, because a radio would totally work when cars go nuts and drive on their own.”

“But the waves the cars and radios, uh, emmett? Whatever, they’re different.” Jeremy said. “Ideally, radios could still work. Maybe. I think.”

“So we’re gonna go to another place, based on a hunch that something may work?” Spencer said. “Great.”

“You’re the one who asked for another idea. Unless you have one?” Spencer stayed quiet. Michael stood up, and said. “Out of the way, I’m gonna open the doors.” Once Jeremy and Christine stood up and backed away, Michael tried to pull on the doors. Emphasis on tried. “Or not, apparently.”

Spencer gently pushed Michael out of the way, and then tried it himself. When the doors still didn’t open, he frowned, and tugged harder. This resulted in the door knob ripping off. He threw his arms up in defeat. “It seems that this isn’t gonna work. We need to find another way out.”

“And I’m guessing that means that we’ll have to go into the dark building where we keep hearing ominous door slams.” Jeremy said.

“Aren’t you the genius.” Spencer said.

“Yay.” Christine said quietly, as if she were talking to herself. “This is going to be great.”

Michael took a deep breath, and clenched the crowbar tighter in his fist.

_ New Objective: Exit the Middle School _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tagalog Translation:
> 
> Ito ay hindi matuwid- It's not fair (It's actually something like "it's not equal" but in the translator it said "it's not pretty" when I said fair so I used the next best thing.)
> 
> This originally had a different ending and turn, but I decided to stop pulling shit out of my ass and actually write a plot that isn't horribly contrived and ex machinaed. I have so much planned for Michael's family tbh, y'all have no idea.
> 
> Thank you so much for the support this has gotten! I appreciate every kudo, bookmark, comment, hell, I appreciate every read. You guys are awesome.


	11. My mind raced, and I thought 'What could I do?'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's this one really cool thing of Dustin by somebody I think called "monosuaga" (idk their Tumblr was deactivated) but it's on this blog called "Ask-Gaymermell" and that's what Dustin looks like in this. So... credit to them?

Rich sat impatiently on the couch, bouncing his leg up and down with his elbows resting on them. Then somebody ghosted their fingers over one of his shoulder blades, giving him chills. He turned to see who it was. Jake.

 

“Dude, are you okay? You’re like, nerve central.”

 

“Yeah, I’m-” Rich’s voice cracked, so he cleared his throat and tried again, “I’m okay.” He could see that Jake wasn’t buying it. “Really, I’m good! Just worried, I guess.”

 

“Brooke?” Jake asked. Rich nodded, his fingers unconsciously grasping the ring that rested over his heart. “What’s going on between you two, huh?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I mean y’all’s ring-necklace things. Ringlace? Neckling?” Jake paused in thought. “I like Ringlace. Yeah, you guys have matching Ringlace’s.”

 

“Oh, this thing?” Rich lifted the ring with Brooke’s heartbeat engraved on the inside. “They’re like, Friendship Rings, I guess. We got them during last summer. After the…” Rich’s tongue went heavy in his mouth, so he cleared his throat. Goddamn, had Junior Year really been that bad for all of them? “Yeah. It’s whatever dude.”

 

“Don’t look ‘whatever’. You sure nothing else is going on?” Jake had an eyebrow raised, a silent question hanging in the air.

 

Rich almost snorted in laughter at the thought. “Hell no! She’s like, my sister, or cousin or something, dude. I’d rather chop off my dick than be with her like that.” He shuddered, both to emphasize his point, and in actual thought what Jake had implied.

 

Jake held up his hands in surrender, a rare, small grin on his face. “Sorry for asking! I was just curious.”

 

The grin was rare, because when Jake smiled, he did it in two ways. It was either his classic, almost-smirk that took up just the right amount of space to have both girls and boys alike swooning, and then the genuine one, where it took up all of his face and reminded you very strongly of a labrador that was begging for little bit of playtime.

Rich knew he was looking for too long, but he couldn’t bring himself to tear his eyes away from Jake. A loud crash from the kitchen drew both boys’ attention elsewhere.

 

“Is it so hard for you guys to treat my stuff nicely?!” Dustin yelled. “Come on!”

 

“Hey, you try walking around with this thing on!” Chloe yelled back. “I’m wearing a heel too, y’know.”

 

“Is she like that all the time?” Rich couldn’t help but blurt. He immediately regretted it as soon as the words were out of his mouth. Too late.

 

Luckily, Jake didn’t seem to find any malice within the statement. “No. She just, uh, kinda is loud about herself. Y’know?”

 

Rich shrugged, even though he knew perfectly. “Yeah.” Carefully, he shifted his arm so it was draped over the back of the couch. “I’m sorry about your house.”

 

“I’m not.” Jake said, with an edge to his voice.

 

“What?” Rich blinked.

 

“I’m really not. I mean, this whole situation is really shitty, and it’s all gone to hell, but if there’s one thing I’m happy about, it’s that the house is gone. It was… empty. Almost felt pointless at times. It was better with y’all in it ‘n shit.” Jake looked directly into Rich’s eyes. “I’d hardly call it a house. It was nothing close to home.”

 

For some reason, that struck a chord with Rich. It sent shivers down his spine, and his heart raced. He swallowed. “Yeah.” ‘ _Yeah? Fucking ‘yeah’?! Nice, Gorganski. No wonder you were so fucking useless Freshman year._ ’ He wanted to yell at Mind Victor Yerrid to shut up. _Victor_.

 

Suddenly, it was like somebody had dumped a bucket of ice over his head. All the previous panic from before rushed him, reminding him strongly of a football player. Victor Yerrid, who had drowned in a pool almost immediately after Homecoming last year, had literally fucking come after him. Victor didn’t even try to attack him, though. He just walked, calmly forward, and looked dead (ha, dead.) set on making Rich join him.

 

“Rich! Richard! Richie!” Jake’s voice was getting louder, and suddenly Rich was staring into deep brown and blue eyes, Jake’s nose almost touching his. Rich snapped back, blinking.

 

“What-... what just?”

 

Jake grabbed his shoulders, head ducked. “Thank God. I thought you were gonna start panicking.” Jake looked back at Rich. “You turned like, really pale dude. And started shaking pretty badly. And you were talking out loud. I thought you were gonna start crying.” Jake’s hands slid to Rich’s face, thumb just brushing under his eye. “There’s a little bit of tear here, look.”

 

Rich didn’t mind Jake’s hand on his face. Rich had always been a touch person, but this felt different. The world around Jake’s eyes blurred a litte, and suddenly it wasn’t okay that they were this close anymore. Rich leaned back, gently swatting Jake’s hand away. “I’m… sorry. It’s just- this whole thing it’s- fucking- I can’t- and then the whole thing with Victor- and my brother, and-”

 

Rich’s chest felt like it was about to collapse. He couldn’t breathe, and when he could, it was less of a breath and more like a giant gulp of air that sounded more like a sob than anything else.

 

“Rich, _breathe_.” The one hand that had stayed on Rich’s shoulder squeezed, and another grabbed Rich’s own hand, but gentler. The burns that Rich had gotten from climbing over an on-fire log were wrapped in makeshift bandages. He let the hands and voice ground him again. “One problem at a time.”

  


_One problem at a time_ . That was their thing, wasn’t it? Solve the problem you can fix, and then move on. _Get the glass out of his back. Clean up the blood. Get him to sleep. Make sure he doesn’t kill himself that night. Let him spend the night until he finds a new home. Find him a job. Make sure he can eat. Keep your secrets to yourselves._ It was just what they did.

 

“One.” Jake said.

 

Rich focused on Jake’s hand.

 

“Two.”

 

He let his eyes follow up Jake’s arm, looking at the creases and folds that the red and white varsity jacket held. It was still a little damp from the rain.

 

“Three.”

 

Rich found a hand in front of Jake’s face, fingers curled into a fist. His nails were dirty and chipped, like he pulled them off with his teeth rather than cutting them. Rich would know. He shared the same habit.

 

“There we go buddy.” Jake took the hand off of Rich’s shoulder, and put the one in front of his face into his lap. He sat back on his heels.

 

Rich’s breaths were still coming in staggered, but much slower now. The urge to cry in frustration and confusion had diminished. He didn’t feel much better, but he definitely didn’t feel worse.

 

Rich wanted his brother. _Spencer_ would know what to do. He always did. Sure, he was brash and stand-offish, heavily reminding Rich of Batman at times, especially with the extreme athletic ability he had, but Rich wanted him here.

 

Rich ran his tongue up against the metal piercings in the bottom of his mouth. Snake bites. They were warm and fogged, as usual.

 

Yeah, Rich was nervous as shit.

 

He was also tired. He’d cried already once today (which was still embarrassing), and just trying not to panic was exhausting.

 

Thuds coming from the kitchen drew his attention. It was Chloe, and it looked like she was limping loudly on purpose, if her nose in the air and the smug look on her face had anything to do with it. Dustin walked out behind her, with his head ducked low but his eyes skyward.

 

“I hate you, Chloe Valentine.” Dustin said in a low voice.

 

Without turning around, but flipping her hair over her shoulder, Chloe said, “You should have thought of that before you started sleeping with Madeline.”

 

Dustin furrowed his brows, his pissed off expression replaced with confusion, and scratched his head under his snapback. “But we’re-... we’re not fucking?”

 

Chloe huffed through her nose, slowly leaning over the couch arm. “Could have fooled me.”

 

Dustin just threw his head back and groaned, and walked over to face all three of them in front of the couch. “So I’ve already told her what Jenna and I planned, but you two need to hear it.”

 

Jake shifted from his spot to sit in front of Rich. Rich could run his fingers through Jake’s hair if he wanted. Which he didn’t.

 

“We’re gonna find the others, meaning Christine, Rich’s brother, Michael, and his friend, uh… Jerry?”

 

“Jeremy.” Rich muttered. He could _feel_ Chloe smirking. She knew Jeremy hated being called that. Or she better, after-...

 

“Yeah, him. After that, we’re supposed to meet up with Jenna, Brooke, Madeline, and your dog Chloe, at that weird auto dealers I can’t remember the name of. Y’know what I’m talking about. Then, we book it the fuck out of dodge. No,” Dustin pointed at Jake, who had opened his mouth for a second, “I don’t know where we’re going. New York maybe. Canada. Just out of here.”

 

There was a squealing of tires, when a car crashed dangerously close to the house, making it rumble a little bit. Rich gripped the couch, flinching, before remembering where he was. It hurt his hands a little, the skin crying out. He hissed through his teeth.

 

“I want everybody out of the house in 45 minutes.” Dustin’s face darkened as he continued like nothing happened. It was a strange look on him. Not that Dustin had an overtly happy deminor, but he was always one of those people who were just chill. “If you aren’t with me, you’re not with me. I’m leaving with or without you.”

 

As he walked away, he gestured in a circular motion above his head with his hands. “If you want to know where anything is, just ask.”

 

Jake stood up in front of Rich, and held out his hand. “Need help?”

 

Rich gave him a quick smile that said ‘ _I got it, thanks_ ’, which Rich knew Jake understood by the nod. Jake moved over to help Chloe.

 

Rich’s skin itched. Maybe his road rash was worse than he thought. Or his burned hands. It just wasn’t his day, huh?

 

He walked over to where he saw Dustin going, ignoring Chloe and Jake’s slightly louder than they thought arguing. The other boy was sitting at a cluttered desk (seriously, dude did _not_ know how to clean), with one foot propped up. He looked zoned out.

 

“Yo, Dustin. You got any barbed wire?” Rich asked, turning around to look for Bertha the Bat.

 

“What do you need it f-” Dustin went silent with a smile. “I like where your brain’s at, man.” He stood up, and started to rummage through a nearby closet.

 

“You could be on an episode of ‘Hoarders’, dude.” Rich muttered absently.

 

Dustin blew air through his nose with a smile as he handed Rich a roll of wire. “I get that a lot.” He shrugged. “The house devolved into a mess after Dad didn’t come home from Afgan.”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“Don’t be. I mean, thanks, but it was two years ago.” Dustin shrugged again, but like there was a slight weight on his shoulders. “I moved on, Mom didn’t.” He flicked a speck of dirt off the desk, watching it hit the floorboards. “Sometimes that’s just how it goes.” Dustin sat back down, leaning forward, in a world of his own again.

 

Rich moved over to the bat, and started wrapping the wire carefully around Bertha.

 

“Dustin!” Jake called from a hallway. Dustin continued to stare off, but a grunt gave indication that he’d heard Jake. “Do you have any backpacks or something?”

 

“There’s one in a bedroom, um, down the hall to the left, and uh, I think there’s one upstairs on top of a toilet.”

 

Jake stopped mid-argument with Chloe to shout “thanks!” as he walked down to the bedroom with her slightly trailing behind.

 

Rich swallowed, continuing to wrap the bat with the wire, doubling back over spots. When he’d run out of wire, he held the bat up. With the makeshift bandages over his hands, the bat kept slipping through his grip. But he could easily hold and swing her even with the added weight.

 

He swung once experimentally, and when Bertha almost flew out of his hands, Rich knew he needed a grip.

 

“Hey do you have bat tape?”

 

“Bathroom, medicine cabinet, bottom shelf, right. It’s white.”

 

Rich didn’t want to question why it was there. So he didn’t. He opened the cabinet, and saw a pack of cigarettes. His hands subconsciously drifted over to the pack, fingers twitching, before he quickly darted to grab the tape and slam the mirror back over it.

 

Rich leaned over the sink, breathing heavily. He’d come so close to relapsing into a habit he swore to break last year. He ran a hand up his face and through his hair, before turning on the sink to let cool water run through. He splashed his face, pushing the water to the roots of his hair. They’d begun to grow back in a little darker now, which he supposed was good.

 

Rich looked at himself in the mirror and almost laughed. This was so stupid. Cigarettes should be the last thing on his mind. He booked it out of the bathroom pretty fast.

 

Rich’s swing with the new grip could take off somebody’s head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have changed my update schedule, and this one is a manageable one, so I'm sticking to it; the second Saturday in every month starting next update, with occasional spastic updates whenever I get into the zone and spit out a whole chapter whenever.
> 
> Next chapter has implied smut, so have fun with that.
> 
>  
> 
> I have a BMC Tumblr sideblog now! 
> 
> https://www.tumblr.com/blog/something-something-bmc
> 
> Come yell with me there. I'm active every now and then.
> 
> There WILL be a piece of art there, at some point, of what each character looks like in this, including what they're wearing, (I got a tablet for my birthday so I can doodle (yeah that's right, I draw too) so you may be seeing some art at somepoint.)
> 
> Thanks guys! See you soon!


	12. And I knew there was no help, no help from you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry about this coming out so late. Time got away from me, and then for the longest time I just lost motivation and interest in BMC in general. I'm going to finish this fic, I promise that much! And I feel major shitty for not being able to keep up with the schedule I set up for myself. Interest in BMC has now become one of those things I have to take in small bites and chunks at certain times. (Also, writing a tone this dark for something is really draining and much harder than I thought, so from now on, I'll try to make it lighter. Or as light as a zombie apocalypse story can be. Next chapter though. Not now.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, after finding out I couldn't write smut for shit, I decided to just kinda... leave it as is? Some stuff is implied, like, REALLY heavily implied, but nothing other than that. I wanted to cut it so very badly, but -if I may- it does establish some pretty heavy character, uh... motivation? Relationships? Idk, it changes character something. But it just happens right aft- DYNAMIC THAT'S THE FUCKING WORD. It changes a certain character dynamic, and that's gonna be pretty important. So I just left it as is.

“So Chloe, how’s your ankle?” Jake said, as Dustin walked away. He made a move to help her up.

 

She swatted at his hands a little harshly. “I’m fine, don’t need your help.”

 

“Sorry.” Jake said, tone clipped. “Just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

 

“Well, I am.” Chloe replied back, less harsh, but with all the aggressiveness. She moved up on her own, clearly straining to not visibly react to the pain. Still a win in his book.

 

“I’m gonna go be useful and help look for things.” Jake said, the barb in his voice obvious. Chloe ignored him.

 

Jake walked into a hallway, knowing full well he had no idea what he was looking for. Slower, small thuds came from behind him. “Stop following me, go look somewhere else.” He didn’t turn around.

 

“What, so I can’t walk now? Are you going to ban breathing next?”

 

“Yes.” In a louder voice, Jake called, “Dustin!” He got a grunt in response. ‘ _ Well, I’ll take it _ .’ “Do you have any backpacks or something?”

 

“There’s one in a bedroom, um, down the hall to the left, and uh, I think there’s one upstairs on top of a toilet.”

 

“What do you need backpacks for? We’re not going to school.” Chloe murmured, obviously to herself.

 

Yet Jake still snapped.

 

“What do you think Chloe? I plan on filling it with textbooks. Obviously.” It took him a second to realize Dustin responded, so he paused long enough to shout, “Thanks!” That was all she needed, it seemed.

 

“What’s got your panties in a twist?”

 

Jake whirled on her, and while she flinched, nothing about her stature suggested she was going to back down. Her arms were crossed, and her gaze unwavering. He ran his fingers through his hair. “You do! This whole thing does! I can’t-” Jake ducked his head, tugging violently at his hair. “I can’t think! I can’t do anything! It’s all just- it doesn’t-” Jake’s knees wobbled, and he collapsed. “I can’t see it all.” Jake sighed, voice small. “I can’t.”

 

He looked up, seeing Chloe silently leaning against the wall, with… something on her face. Maybe pity. Maybe sympathy. He didn’t know. Or maybe he didn’t care. Jake tore his gaze away from her.

 

He had a searing headache that he had a feeling wasn’t going to go away anytime soon.

 

Jake needed out of that hallway. He stood up, knees wavering, but he tried not to let it show. In the bedroom down the hall, Dustin said. To the left.

 

The bedroom was slightly less cluttered than the hallway, the bed perfectly clear and even made. A backpack, lo and behold, was resting on a chair, half-opened. Jake sat on the bed, staring at the backpack.

 

Jake couldn’t bring it in him to move. He only did to look at, unsurprisingly, Chloe, who had sat down next to him. Sometimes it was unsettling how silent she would be. Chloe was never silent. Always loud about herself. Never quiet. Yet she was now.

 

Maybe it was that fact that had him do it. Maybe it was the fact that he had so many pent emotions. Maybe it was the fact that she was there and there was so much shit between them it may as well not matter.

 

Irregardless of why, he kissed her. And she kissed back. At this point in time, that was all that mattered.

  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  


Chloe collapsed next to him, breathing heavily. He could feel her weight on the mattress. Jake draped his left arm over his eyes. He suddenly felt tired.

 

“How do we always end up here?” Jake asked.

 

Chloe deeply exhaled. “What do you mean?” She was playing dumb for his benefit. It was like a game they played. She was the perfect princess, he was the knight in shining armor. It was funny because they never seemed to fit into those roles.

 

“We always end up fighting, breaking up, and then…” He gestured wildly around with his right hand, “this.”

 

“... I don’t know.” Chloe’s voice was soft. He felt the mattress shift as she probably sat up. Maybe there was a point where he Loved her for these soft moments, where there was nobody else to act for, yet they were still stuck in those characters. They got quieter around each other. It was weird.

 

“Do you Love me?” She asked. It was hardly a question. More like a reformation to something she already knew. 

 

Jake shook his head. “I don’t wanna do this anymore Chloe.” He murmured.

 

“Then don’t.” It wasn’t bitter. That was a line that was supposed to be bitter. But it wasn’t. They were both tired of this. Chloe took Jake’s hand, the one over his eyes, and pulled it into her lap. She played with his fingers, barely. Jake just looked at her face

 

She met his eyes, before closing hers, and leaning over to kiss him again. While doing so, Chloe put Jake’s hand over his chest.

 

When Chloe pulled away, she said, “That was goodbye, Jake.”

 

He didn’t say anything, just nodded. Chloe slid off the bed, and started to get dressed. Jake turned back up to the ceiling, sighing. He instantly felt relieved. On-and-off again was exhausting for everybody.

 

“Hey,” Jake propped himself up on his elbow, “why did we come up here again?”

 

Chloe paused, mid-way putting her bra on, to look at him. She did that really cute thing where her tongue was between her teeth and lips, and and narrowed her eyes to the side. She looked back at him. “Backpack.”

 

“Right!” Jake tried to point and finger-gun at her with both hands, unfortunately forgetting that one was propping himself up, and he fell back onto the bed with an ‘omphf’. He shot back up like a rocket. “Right!” 

 

Jake jumped out of the bed, and began doing a perfect imitation of Marty McFly in his mother’s bedroom when he tried to put his underwear and pants back on. Chloe snorted at him, now fully dressed, and carefully stalked out of the room.

 

The backpack was still on the chair in front of a desk. Jake stood over it and crossed his arms over his bare chest. Then he placed a hand over his heart. “Shirt, right.” 

 

Jake went back to the bed, and picked up the first green and white shirt he saw on the floor. “Ah-ha!” He held it up triumphantly for a few seconds. “This isn’t mine.” He discarded it. “There you are.” The tag poked him in between his collarbones. “Aw fuck.”

 

He quickly did a pat down. He had his lanyard in his pocket again, the bracelet stayed on his wrist because he’d never taken it off, but he wasn’t wearing any shoes, or socks for that matter, and his jacket was still M.I.A.

 

Socks and shoes weren’t hard to find. Neither was the jacket, but you’d have to be a complete idiot to lose a giant bright red letterman  _ with your name on it _ , even in a clusterfuck of a room like this. 

 

Finally, having all his belongings, Jake could focus on the backpack. He dumped the contents onto the bed. Most were school related, like old papers, or pencils, or staples, or three oranges for some reason.

 

Jake exhaled and ran his fingers through his hair. Food and water were first priority. Mostly water. Two months without food. Only a week without water. Jake looked around the room, and found only one water bottle. It was opened, but still mostly full. He opened the top and sniffed. “Woah, I don’t even wanna know how long this puppy’s been there.” He set it back down. 

 

If he was being honest, there wasn’t much in the room. There was a lot of clutter, and definitely a lot of trash, but even by his standards, there wasn’t anything worth looking for. Not a lot worth coming back to.

 

Maybe he and Dustin weren’t as un-similar as he thought.

 

He shouldered the still-empty bag, and started upstairs And there was the other backpack, on top the toilet. This one was empty. There was a closet in the bathroom, and Yahtzee!, there was toilet paper. Lots of it. Thank god this kid lived like a hoarder, otherwise they’d be totally screwed.

 

Jake kneeled on the ground and started doing the only sensible thing; shoving as much of the toilet paper as he could into the bag.

 

“Yo, Dustin says he move out in- what are you doing?” Jake looked up and saw Rich in the doorway. He looked back down at the roll in his hand. 

 

“Uh, packing?” Jake held the roll out to Rich to emphasize his point.

 

“Why the toilet paper?”

 

“Because I’d rather have a clean ass after I shit?”

 

“No, well duh, but like, why?”

 

“Because this,” he shook the roll, “this stuff is gold, my dude. Come on, you’ve never run away before? Surely you’ve gotta know how to pack for it.”

 

Rich furrowed his brow and shook his head. “Uh, maybe when I was like, six or something. But I just packed a snack and a toy. Maybe a blanket.”

 

“Huh.” Jake narrowed his eyes and stared off for a second, feeling funny. “Well, anyway, doesn’t matter. We will want this, I promise you that much.” 

 

Rich just nodded. “Okay, sure. Dustin wants to move out in ten minutes.”

 

Jake blinked. “Really? We just started.”

 

“Uh, no? What do you mean?” Rich snorted. “Dude, what have you been doing?”

 

Jake just shrugged and continued to pack the toilet paper. 

 

“Holy shit, no way.” When Jake didn’t respond, Rich laughed. “You did, didn’t you? Right now though? That really the best timing?”

 

“Doesn’t matter, I think we’re done anyway. And yeah, wasn’t the smartest decision I’ve made, but who cares?” He ran out of toilet paper to pack, so Jake zipped the bag up and threw it over his shoulder. “Not like we can tell anybody.”

 

Rich let out a long exhale. “Right…”

 

“Hey,” Jake held up the empty bag in his other hand for a split second, “think fast” before he tossed it at Rich. Rich caught it, obviously, if not fumbling with it for a bit. “Go find anything edible that isn’t rotten. Or junk food.” When Rich raised an eyebrow at him, Jake looked away and pretended to go into deep thought for a second. “I don’t think a little beer would hurt though?” It was phrased ‘innocently’, but Jake smirked knowingly. 

 

Rich gave him a high-five, tongue stuck out. “Yeah, that’s my guy.” Rich had dimples when he smiled. They were kinda cute, actually.

 

_ Woah, where the fuck did that come out of? _ Jake asked his inner-self.  _ And when did you get so… noticable? Notice things more. Whatever. _

 

Rich started to walk away. “Hey, uh wait!” Jake reached a hand out to him. Rich looked back over his shoulder.  _ ‘Your dimples are cute’ _ “Get the bottled stuff, yeah? Canned ‘ll explode, and I don’t like using wet toilet paper or having booze-smelling bags.”

 

Rich made a face. “Ugh, yeah no, I hear you.” He turned back around to go downstairs.

 

As soon as Rich was out of eye and ear shot, Jake slapped his forehead with the back of his hand.  _ ‘What the hell?’ _ He ran his fingers through his hair, exhaling deeply.  _ ‘Wow, okay. Focus. Not the time.’  _

 

He walked out of the bathroom, swallowing. There was two more bedrooms on the top floor, along with a laundry room. In one of the bedrooms Jake saw a large grandfather clock on it’s side, all the glass shattered. The time read “6:30”. The second hand wasn’t moving, it was stuck at the 15 second mark. 

 

Jake stared at it for a moment. It felt symbolic, somehow. Maybe. Hell if he knew. He approached the clock, and picked up a piece of broken glass. It was completely round. Jake wasn’t sentimental. He wasn’t.

 

He pocketed the glass, slipping it in the same pouch of fabric as his lanyard.

 

Jake set the bag down on a bed, and picked up a duffel bag sticking out from the closet. It was camo-patterned, and full of something called “MRE’S”. Jake read the labels “Meal, Ready-to-eat, Individual”. Pizza, chili and macaroni, ziti, chicken parm…

 

“Hey, Dustin?” Jake shouted, still looking at the brown packages in his hands.

 

“Hold up, I’m coming!” Dustin appeared in the doorway a few seconds later. “What’s up?”

 

“These still safe to use?” He held up a package.

 

Dustin’s entire demeanor hardened again, like it’d been doing all day. “Where did you find those?”

 

“In here.” Jake held up the duffle bag to demonstrate. Dustin’s form slumped over. 

 

“Yeah, yeah no. Those things can last forever. Bring as many as you can.” He looked at the bag Jake had already filled. “Toilet paper, huh? Smart.” He walked away.

 

Jake threw the MRE’s back into the duffel bag stalked back out of the room with both bags in tow. 

 

When he got downstairs, Jake walked into the kitchen, where Chloe was searching through cabinets and Dustin was over the sink filling up water bottles. Jake set the two bags on the kitchen table with a thunk. “Where do you keep your blankets?”

 

Dustin didn’t turn around, simply shrugging, his back muscles moving rapidly. “Look around, you’ll find some.” He sighed, leaning further over the sink. “We were supposed to be gone 7 minutes ago.”

 

Dustin was confusing, that was for sure. The guy’s mood and attitude towards a situation was all over the place. 

 

Chloe sighed through her nose, but if she had anything to say, she kept it to herself. She glanced at Jake, then turned back around to file through the cabinets.

 

Jake looked at the digital clock on the stove. “5:52”. It was probably one of the only still functioning electronic things in this part of Middleborough. Maybe even Jersey. 

 

5:53. No matter what he did, he never got the timing right, huh. Chloe moved in front of the stove. Jake blinked, and went to go find some blankets. He found Rich instead.

 

“So it turns out, Dustin doesn’t have anything.” Rich said, matter-of-factly.

 

“Nothing good, or just not anything at all?”

 

“Nothing. At all.” Rich ran a hand through his hair, only to drop it and have it slap against his thigh. “I couldn’t find anything worth, uh, getting high off of, either. What does this guy do all day?”

 

Jake opened his mouth to answer, but somebody screamed. Off in the distance. Behind the house. It was a little hard to tell, to be honest.

 

He and Rich both flinched in unison. Jake brought his hand up to clap Rich on the shoulder when he noticed it was shaking. Instead he rubbed the back of his neck. “Blankets.” He said intelligently. “We need those.”

 

Dustin didn’t have a lot of blankets, apparently. They’d managed to find four altogether.

 

There were five bags on the kitchen table, in the end. Five bags for the seven, possibly more of them. None of them had any clue what to do at this point. Until Dustin cleared his throat.

 

“Alright, everybody take a bag, uh, I’ll take two.”

 

Jake took an army backpack to match the duffel bag. He looked at the clock again. “6:02”

 

He didn’t realize he’d zoned out until Rich called out to him. “Yo, Jakey-D.” He turned towards his voice. Rich was standing in the doorway to the outside. He had a hand outstretched, the other holding the bat which currently rested on his shoulders. “You coming?”

 

Jake sighed. “Yeah no, let’s go.” As Rich turned, he flipped a lightswitch. The whole house went dark, but a little ding that almost sounded electric is what caught Jake’s ear.

 

He looked at the stove. It was just a black screen.

 

Jake walked to the door, and he saw a small movement of blue. It was a Captain America bobblehead on the mantelpiece. Jake exhaled sharply out of his nose in amusement, and grabbed the little figure. There weren’t any other bobbleheads or figures to match this one. Just good ole’ Steve Rogers donning a Red, White, and Blue uniform.

 

Jake stuck it with the lanyard and the glass piece. His pocket felt a little bulky but that was fine.

 

Jake wasn’t sentimental. Jake was never really good with timing.

 

The keys in his pocket rattled as he stomped down the stairs. Chloe had her arm over Dustin’s shoulders and was looking at him. Dustin was half-looking at him half not. Rich was staring down the sidewalk.

 

“Alright,” Jake said, “let’s go.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you tell I run my fingers through my hair all the time? I only project that trait of mine through the characters frequently.
> 
> Sorry this chapter was everywhere. I'm working on it.
> 
> (Was I too subtle? What with the time and the Captain America and shit? ... nah. 'Sides, y'all don't know what I mean yet. You won't for I while, I promise.)

**Author's Note:**

> I Hope y'all like it. Don't be afraid to comment!!! I don't bite!! Plus, creators Love comments! Not just me!! Most of them!! Encouragement!! If this piece of shit gets a significant amount of hits (I'm talkin' like 11, not 1,000), then it'll probably be scheduled updates. If not, then whenever I feel like it sorry lamo. This is un-beta-ed. So, if you wanna beta read it, you can? Just ask.


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